Author Information
No Wings.
Folder:
Bern's Prose.
No Wings.
From the day I was born until the day I die I will never be able to fly. I feel so inadequate. Each small fly, gnat, and bird with others can fly at birth so why have I been sorted out not to be able to fly and see what is over the next hill or even play with the birds.
My heart bleeds when I see all of those flying creatures that are so care free, so happy most of their time is spent singing songs, bird songs that we; even I cannot understand but the songs appeal to my heart. Why cannot I join them in their flights high into the heavens?
It would be a wonderful experience to dive from a high height to within a few inches from the ground. I can imagine the rush of adrenaline to my brain helping me to become one of the happiest persons on this earth.
I would not need my arms as such just wings to enable me to soar high in the heavens to sing with the nightingales, to compete with the lark. Fly with the cheeky sparrows passing on the gossip that they have gleaned by listening to mankind’s chatter.
The Jenny wren has always fascinated me with her lovely plumage. I even envy the crows, yes the noisy crows at least they can fly even if they are a nuisance, and Magpies that steal or should I say borrow all that glitters even flying into open windows when something shiny catches their eyes. All of these creatures can do that, which was denied me at birth; to fly high in the heavens above to play with the wind and breezes that are sent for the birds to enjoy.
I know that it is not right to want to be something that one can never be but perhaps in my next life span I too will have wings even if it is only a fruit fly with only one day to live, That does not matter I will be able to fly, to be as free as a bird. What a wonderful thought to have in mind when my time comes to an end. Bern
