The Swing (The Lesson of Birds)

The Swing (The Lesson of Birds)

A troubled boy sat alone on a swing,

Stuck in thought over a curious thing.


"I envy the birds," he stated aloud,

"How they're all free to fly and sing in the clouds".


"They're free from the ropes of a broken mind,

Free from its squeeze and terrible bind".


"They're all unafraid of the trivial sod,

As they awake every day and touch the face of God".


"I envy the birds. Why can't I fly?

If they can all do it, then why cannot I?"


Back and forth in his thoughts, he started to weep,

"How can I think this way? Am I really that weak?"


He gripped the ropes tighter, and then tighter more,

And kicked at his teardrops staining the floor.


He started to swing, melancholic-ly so,

Forward Back

Forward Back

Forward Back

Forward Back

Plenty of motion, yet no where to go.


Then all of a sudden, a moment of grace,

As the cool evening wind whooshed past his face.


He began to swing higher with purpose anew,

To get out of his slump, he knew just what to do.


For he learned a great lesson, which all the birds know-

If you want to start flying, all you do is let go.

A.P.