Nascence

Wriggle… wriggle, wriggle.

    Poke, poke.     Crack.

A beam of sunlight rushes in,

And with it the sound of splashing and Mama. She coos.

Soft feathers rub against my own,

A billion soft pillows wrapped around me,

Her rufous plumage smothering me in a valley of love.

I nudge away the protective dark blanket of her wing.

Strange tall leafy towers loom above me,

A vast kingdom of greenery.

My new home, not that I know it yet.

Gold and bronze twigs form angles,

Polygons of sticks, fashioned into a semi-sphere.

I stumble to the brink.

An immense body of blue cascades in a shower of streamers below me.

Desire fills me.

Other birds glide by,

Zig-zagging through air and trees and sprays of water.

Some day soon, I will soar too,

Through the clouds, and touch the stars.