While you're waiting

I started editing my first chapter in order to post it here, and realized that some serious rewrites are in order. I guess that's good. I mean, I did write the silly thing three and a half years ago. It's good to know my writing ability has improved some.

Nevertheless, I feel the urge to post something here, so, here is something I wrote yesterday. At some point, I'll turn it into a picture book:

An eagle lived inside a bamboo cage.

His needs were met and so he knew no rage.

He thought he'd lived there all his little life

and so he sang no songs of joy or strife

It meant not much to him he could not fly

out in the sun; under the open sky

From time to time a thought of discontent

would cross his mind--he knew not what it meant.

Till one day Mrs. Bluebird came to call

And shattered his illusions one and all

"Have you no pride in what you are my dear?

"Just spread your wings, what beast have you to fear?

"A bird you are, not meant for smallish ways,

"Try out your wings, waste not your precious days!"

His majesty ignored her sage advice

Continued on his feasts of seeds and rice

"I am quite unlike that small bright being,

Who spoke of all the joys of one's freeing.

Who is she to tell me I'm made for flight?

I'm a house-bird. It just wouldn't be right."

And so he went along for quite sometime.

His life it lack-ed reason and lacked rhyme.

But then one day his heart began to roar:

"Go on you fool; just spread your wings and soar!"

A tear coarsed down along his noble cheek,

and then he knew he must a new path seek.

He started to experiment with flight

He'd flap his wings all through the day and night.

His first short tries were really not that good.

A small voice said, "Give up. You know you should."

But soldier on he did, and soon he flew.

And then he could admit what he knew true

"I am just like the lovely One who came.

Who told me what I am--my proper name!"

He looked at last at his weak woody jail,

And laughed for he could see it was not hale.

That night he slept, a smile on his face,

And come the morn his heart began to race.

When all was quiet, all the humans gone.

He freed himself, and flew out to the lawn.

To see what was about he climbed a tree.

And then he laughed because he was so free.

All the world he saw was filled with beauty

and he was free from sadness hate and duty

Of course his story ends not at this place

he had so many trials yet to face

Giving up old limits is real hard

it took him weeks to even leave the yard!

and yet I think this is where I shall stop

But so your expectations I don't drop,

I have this left to say of our small friend,

before this little tale comes to an end:

Although he sometimes faltered on his path

his life was well worth living, it is true!

More filled with joy than sorrow or with wrath

A life inspiring to both me and you.

This tiny tale's a parable you see

About the source of freedom on this earth.

Get this: it waits inside of you and me.

Just waiting for the day we give it birth.

Love's what we should not have for normal lives.

when we have wings upon which we can soar.

Let not our hearts be pierced with scornful knives.

Just turn around and open freedom's door.

Your life is waiting for you there you know.

stop fighting it: allow yourself to grow.