I was living in Switzerland, far from my family and closest friends in the US, and in a season of transition. I had found courage to leave a difficult workplace dynamic and an injurious romantic relationship, but I did not know what was next.

Calling it a "season of transition" seems accurate in retrospect, but at the time I felt a great sense of uncertainty. Dr. Joan Borysenko  refers to this as

"The No Longer - The Not Yet"

Uncertainty exists between these two. I knew I could no longer remain in my circumstances, but I did not yet know where life would lead. In the midst of this uncertainty I took to my writing practice religiously, and found comfort and perspective through the voice of this poem.

Little Bird

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Oh bird

You will one day fly again

That thud on the ground

That thud that broke you down

It did not break your little wings

No!

But you were wounded

You were wounded in the nest

In fact, when you learned to fly you really weren’t so free

Not as free as I intended you to be

My precious little bird

So take that thud

Those months of breaking down

And learn

Learn to breathe again

Learn to crawl and to walk

And when your wounded wings have healed, little bird, you will fly

You’ll fly along the breeze

You’ll fly in my sun’s warm light

You’ll spread your wings

You will take flight!

You’ll see, as you never saw before

The edge of the ocean

The sea and its shore

You’ll find that you’re at home wherever you and the breeze be carried

And you’ll trust that with mended wings

The sky is a lot less scary

Little bird

Give it time

(your mending)

Don’t rush it

Give it time

To enjoy the grass underneath your feet

and the food that you eat

and the woodland creatures

and other wounded birds that you meet

On the ground

Take it all in

Drink it up

This grassy rest I’m giving you now

Little bird

It’s a gift, from me

Just as is the breeze

You will fly again

And perhaps you’ll even soar

But for now little bird don’t want for more

Say thanks for the grass

The friends and gifts on the ground

And worry not my precious

I will always be found -

In the shadow of a tree

just around the bend

And in the silver, bright lining of the clouds in a dark sky

I will always be found

I am always right by

Your side

My precious little bird

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