Jamon

Flight:

So when do birds learn how to fly? Is it when their mother leaves? Is it when they've grown out all their feathers Or when they've fallen from the eaves?

Do they practice every day til dusk, To pass the ultimate test? Do they have a deep desire to Defy all of the rest?

When they sing their song of aquiline pride Is it filled with hopeful praise? Is the longing for the world beyond Within the song they raise?

Do they feel the same as a growing child Innocent, young, and true? Wishing they could travel the globe Just to stop and see the view?

Do they have to prove themselves somehow In a mighty, heroic task? Or is it simply a small becoming of age With no questions asked?

Is their judge a hopeful, prideful parent With expectations untamed? Or is it the protective mother who Has no intention to blame?

When the gold Sun rises over the green grove trees Are their hearts filled with joy? Or do their souls fall back and hide Flattered, calm, and coy?

If the small young chick feels prone to escape Out into the world Then is his desire only an extension To the length of his wings unfurled?

So if those birds do find a way To spread their wings and fly Then good for them, kudos and applause But when will I?