17600
The shell is broken, finally free.
Free to roam the nest, and watch blue skies.
Nurtured and protected, with the warmth of safety.
Dancing on limbs, playful at the end of a branch.
Looking down, there's the ground, it doesn't seem so far.
Flapping, emulating training and instinct.
Excited, adrenalin shortens the thinking through of things.
Everyone does it, why not me.
Fallen, from the tree tops above.
Chirping, mixed within the dirt and leaves.
Looking up, seeing all the branches struck on the way down.
So far, so far and vulnerable.
It looks so easy to fly, just catch the wind and glide.
Haste and impatience, introducing the role of gravity.
Unable to recollect the passing of experienced wisdom.
Looking around, a speck upon such vastness.
Chirp, chirp, mother where are you.
As predators zero in on the cries.
Chirp, chirp, mother where are you.
It's cold out, and the sun is going down.
