What is Wrong With My Wing?

I am inside the nest. Mother comes out. She pushes me out of the nest because I was born with a deformed wing. I fall. I see her sadly watching me fall. I hit the ground. The ground feels cold, and hard. Mother stops looking at me and feeds my brothers and sisters. I am abandoned. My mother doesn't want to waste her food on a bird that would never make it. I lie there until I am sure she is not going to feel bad and get me. I hop onto my legs. I am shaky, sad. Nothing can save my hope now. I am gone. I look to the starry sky. I look to the lightning bugs. If they can do it, I sure can. I step over the wolf spiders, the worms, the moles. I try to climb onto the bush. I do. I jump off and try to fly. I do. It is a wonderful feeling, flying. You soar through the air. The feeling of nothing stopping you covers your heart. You feel like nothing will ever happen to you; That is, until you realize you are merely falling. I guess I can't fly. I wiggle my little wing. I wiggle my normal wing. I guess I won't make it. Mother is right. I can't make it. I sit on the ground and wait until morning. I wait until I die. I wait until I starve. But I do not. I live. I do not starve. I have hope again. I look to the morning sun, the light that shines. The light that powers my hope. The light that shows me the way. I think about my life. What is friendship? What does it do? What is flight? How can you do it? What is hope? Where do you find it? These questions power my journey. These questions help me go forward.


Signed,
Raven Black