She gazed completely unphased
Admired and amazed.
It was warm
and she had faith.
She ventured and searched
And earnestly perched.
The branch was prickled.
But she had faith.
She yearned and yearned and studiously Learned to be and grow.
The branch it drooped
But she had faith.
She sat and watched, solemn and lost
Feathered with frost.
The branch was brittle
But she had faith.
The storm it came, the trunk it creaked, Howling fury from above, lonesome leaves whipped away, exposed and naked
The world it roared;
You are wrong
You are wrong
You are wrong
This is not the way.
So as the ice wind blew
She knew
She had to let go.
From a branch no longer her own
A ragged bundle of faith
Leapt
Down and down every branch a blow,
to wing
to head
to heart
Down and down
Tossed to and fro
As the ground came up, the sky fell down,
A world spun around.
But suspended there, between faith and fear
Came a familiar song
Whispered yet strong;
Time to fly my little one
This is not your fate
A bird is born to fly
Not to sit and wait.
Image is an art work done by Tom for Rotherham Flourish.
