Wings
By Charity Jeffs (read more about Charity here)
I nudge my fledgling from the nest

He eagerly takes flight.

Off on his own

Spreading his wings

The freedom feels so right.

 

Not just for him

But also me does freedom taste so sweet.

No longer will my time be spent

On food for him to eat.

 

I’ll find my own

And fly and sing

Without another’s cares

Weighing down, trapping me

In the pull of parental snares.

 

But as I revel in my joy

This freedom gladly brings

I feel a weight deep in my heart.

And worry enters in.

 

Does he know how

To spread his wings

And soar above the clouds?

Is he prepared to leave the nest?

My head swims with these doubts.

 

What will I do anyway

With these new wings of mine?

I’ve known no other task but this

His identity is mine.

 

Confusion swirls and fogs my view

How is he flying now?

Perhaps he needs me.

Should I go?

And force him back somehow?

 

Then I recall the feel of flight

That rush of aptitude

That came from spreading out my wings

And trying what was new.

 

How can I deny him this?

The joy that comes from growth

I know that I must let him go

But still, I worry so.

 

My mind goes back

To ages past

When children had to leave

To learn and grow, away from home

And fly on their own wings.

 

And I feel settled once again

Watching my fledgling fly.

It’s hard to watch him struggle now

But now I understand why.

 

If I had kept him in the nest,

What could he have become?

Nothing more than what he was

A fledgling. Halted. Stopped.

 

But he is more than a little bird

Far more than what is seen

For deep within him yearning to soar

Is the eagle he’s meant to be.