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The base of his tree
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
Nazhah Khawaja
Nazhah is Women Editor for THE DEMUREIST and is a Zumba Dance Fitness Instructor. Nazhah is a mother of two creative minds. After receiving a business degree from DePaul, she spent a couple years living and teaching overseas in an underdeveloped country.