There is a window in my shell, self chiseled by my beak
To a world-wheel of possibilities, I’m sure
Where skies are sunny blue and rainbows rise and fall
And trees sway limb by limb to windy melody.
A quick glimpse at mama’s wings implores,
That I explore this world unknown
She sings of things to come, like hunts and windy glides
And a quest awaiting me, the day I leave this rest
But what if myself I free and come out of my shell,
And leave behind those wonderful things,
I have grown to love so well
Will this hole become a gate, to predators and hate?
Will blue skies disappear?
And will fortune bow, to fatal falls and fear?
Maybe, I am just better off in here!
Copyright©2013 by Camille Caliscia Patrick
To a world-wheel of possibilities, I’m sure
Where skies are sunny blue and rainbows rise and fall
And trees sway limb by limb to windy melody.
A quick glimpse at mama’s wings implores,
That I explore this world unknown
She sings of things to come, like hunts and windy glides
And a quest awaiting me, the day I leave this rest
But what if myself I free and come out of my shell,
And leave behind those wonderful things,
I have grown to love so well
Will this hole become a gate, to predators and hate?
Will blue skies disappear?
And will fortune bow, to fatal falls and fear?
Maybe, I am just better off in here!
Copyright©2013 by Camille Caliscia Patrick
No comments:
Post a Comment