STRAIGHTEN YOUR TAIL FEATHERS lame bird, FLY STRONGHT little fledgeling. How can I claim to be such a strong flyer when i ground myself and limp lamely along the ground at the twilight's morning mist. It's not even a storm, yet I still stop and retreat as if the very air were strong enough to rip me appart limb from limb. shall i sit here, grounded and allow this day to pass me by? the first light is on the horizon... What will happen when I fly over water, where there is no place to land. What will happen when I mess up and fall into the water, will I idly sink, or will I swim? The ground is littered with traps, expertly lined with bait, calling me hither, becconing me closer and promising me Turkish Delights. I draw close to it, fully knowing of its danger and damage from personal experience, yet i promise myself that i will not be caught within its clutches. I am so intent on the bait that i do not notice the trap encircling me, slowly surrounding me until suddenly it clamps tight and I find myself bound and hurt. Who's fault is it that I am in such a state? Is it the hunter who laid the trap? Is it the trap itself? Is it my creator who gave me such simple desires that were lured by the bait? No... it is my own fault... I was invited to partake of sin, yet i did not decline the invitaton... for three weeks now i have been stumbling along on the ground. stumbling into the same traps -- letting each one rip out a piece of my soul and chew on it for its own good pleasure, weakening my flesh. i am too ashamed of myself to look to the sky and cry out for help... my spirit longs to soar high, fast, and strong yet it is being starved as i try to eat dung dressed up to look pleasing to the eyes...
i cry out for help like a lost hungry kitten and move foward in hopes of seeing where i am, and finding a launchpad so that i may soar again...