Wings

Young birds find their flight and leaves the nest. The Tree, the mother rejoices in new life, both for the young-lings and hers. The nest lies abandoned.

Little star-feet of young birds press gently for a waiting second,
Then wings beat life into another flight.
The blue-white surge of the sky buoy their tense new tendons
riding the white air.
 the nest mopes
used and abandoned,
The tree shakes its mane in contented relief
resumes her ecstatic dance in warm fragrant light
the earth brims up in her veins,

She lifts her arms and takes flight in rhythm.

Reviews

[Frieda P]

A precious read, full of that majestic flight, if only we as humans felt the same about the empty nest.

[Lauriegirl]

this is interesting and quite enchanting..good job

[Sunya]

Beautiful mix of sadness and wonders of life :) why have you not kept the tree as a him or her? that would have been more kickass :p its a beautiful poem :)