Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
Poetry

The base of his tree

Share this article:

I noticed a bird 

That could no longer fly

He extended his wings

Carefully

Gracefully

But they could no longer lift him up 

He flapped them 

Stretched them

Did what he knew 

What he was accustomed to 

But could no longer fly 

I noticed his struggle

I stopped 

His struggle caused me to stop

I could not watch this struggle 

The struggle of a bird that could no longer fly 

I reached down to help 

He turned his head

And looked at me 

My hands did not touch him

He looked at me 

There was fear 

And Grief 

There was Uncertainty 

And then I saw strength 

I saw strength behind the fear, the grief, the uncertainty 

He did not need me to help 

He did not want me to help 

He was broken

He was hurt

This bird that could no longer fly

Was broken and hurt 

Yet he was headed somewhere

Up ahead there was a tree

A tree he called home 

He resumed his struggle 

To his tree 

The only place he wanted to be 

His home 

His sanctuary 

It took him a while 

As he trudged forward

To his sanctuary 

He made it 

He did

Gracefully 

And carefully 

With wings extended

He made it

And stood there 

At the base of his tree

He glanced up 

Attempted to fly

For a moment he forgot 

That he was a bird that could no longer fly

But he made it 

To the base of his tree

He made it

To his sanctuary 

That is where I left him 

Because I knew he was home 

Because I knew he was safe 

There at the base of his tree

In his sanctuary 

Share this article: