There- I saw the little birdie when it hatched. My perfect chick. Unlike the ugly duckling. With rounded and glistening eyes trying to open wide. Of a tiny,little beak that was so delightful. Of those very tiny legs with crushed paws. The wings.. Unlike the ugly duckling, there was only one wing and another that was broken.
But for the mama, this birdie was the only birdie in the universe that was the loveliest. This chick received more than any other chick in the planet. And that was not a lie. It really did. The mama made sure that it was well fed, well loved and well taken care of- enough to compensate for the broken wing and the battered paw.
The little chick grew up happy and contented. Until. That day when it saw the uncompensated chicks take off. Off the earth. Into the skies. Soaring with joy. Soaring that was driven by instinct. An instinct that was rampant even in this chick. Knowing that it could have been one of them. In the skies. Knowing what could have been, if it were the average flock.
Knowing that no matter what the mama said or did, neither the broken wing nor the battered leg would ever allow the birdie to live happily ever after. With mama.
Knowing that in knowing it was not a part of the flock anymore, suddenly the broken wings were missed. The battered legs mattered.
But for the mama, this birdie was the only birdie in the universe that was the loveliest. This chick received more than any other chick in the planet. And that was not a lie. It really did. The mama made sure that it was well fed, well loved and well taken care of- enough to compensate for the broken wing and the battered paw.
The little chick grew up happy and contented. Until. That day when it saw the uncompensated chicks take off. Off the earth. Into the skies. Soaring with joy. Soaring that was driven by instinct. An instinct that was rampant even in this chick. Knowing that it could have been one of them. In the skies. Knowing what could have been, if it were the average flock.
Knowing that no matter what the mama said or did, neither the broken wing nor the battered leg would ever allow the birdie to live happily ever after. With mama.
Knowing that in knowing it was not a part of the flock anymore, suddenly the broken wings were missed. The battered legs mattered.
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