You never breastfed me but you warmed my shell.
Instinctly pecking broke me free of my reality hell.
You kicked me out of the nest and I flew the skies.
Fear to fly for a bird that has to get past weak lies.

When I needed you was fed and tended over good.
Were just these things that had to be understood.
The heart knows what the brain can't accept easy.
Like that the feeling of vertigo that makes queasy.

A fish has the water but the bird has the open air.
But gliding is flying too like treading water there.
There are some things that just can't be that fake.
When the snake comes after the eggs to partake.

From watching you knew sometimes I must perch.
Sometime better on a branch or in flight to search.
When to use the claws or the beak with predator.
How not to be a victim when using new metaphor.

How to watch the other birds those of the leather.
How to preen and to take care of all of my feather.
Remembering the pteradactyl and the great Roc.
Try not to be paranoid when counting my stock.

That even the winged serpent is still just a bird.
Not all nests are in the trees is something heard.
And even if I am small oh thy great thunderbird.
All I am or all I shall ever be I owe to Motherbird.

Nice write . . . as alw@ays love your creativity.

Nice WRITE Man,,,,

Thank you.

As an avid outdoorsman, fisherman ect, the name drew me in to read and the read itself was awesome. Very nicely written man.