On a cool and windy August day
the bird’s mother came as usual.
Strangely, today she possessed no worms,
she had become tired of finding food.
She looked at the adolescent bird,
with a look of evil and disgust.
The mother never did this before.
Today is the first day he will fly.

A tornado flew in his stomach,
it was his sense of fear acting odd.
His mother, with force, pushed him away
to the edge of the loose hanging branch.  
He glanced down, peering at nothing else
but the hard and unforgiving ground.
If he wouldn’t jump, he would fall down. 
Today is the first day he will fly.

He leaped with the force he could muster 
extending his wings, he ascended up.
He looked into the lively blue sky,
with barely any effort, he flew.
And with no fear inside him, he soared,
up and beyond, far had he traveled.
He didn’t know he had it in him.
Today is the first day he will fly.