Flighty Bird
There are times I feel
I’m like a small flighty bird
Endlessly and powerfully drawn by the wind
To the sky
The clouds
The sun and moon and sea and world
The colors I wear and the words I sing often attract the interest of humans
Approaching clumsily hands outstretched
They interest me
My head cocks from side to side
Studying
I sing and draw them, tease them, intrigue them
It’s a game I play
But the instant they take one step too many, compromising my space, threatening my freedom
I’m gone
Back to the peaceful independence of the lonely sky
Tied to nothing and no one
But one came singing a song of his own
A song that harmonized perfectly with mine
He approached slowly, sweetly, thoughtfully
And I listened and watched
Felt
Took the slightest of hops toward him
Impulsively
Timidly
Longingly
Captivated
Nearly within arms reach
Nearly surrendering
Too close, I fled
For if I were to become a caged bird
I fear I would cease to sing
Copyright © Skylyn Webb | Year Posted 2014
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