The birds that flock,
return to their nest by dawn.
“Don’t fly too far!”,
the mother told her hatchlings.
With feathers barely dry,
they fly.
They fly as far as their will brings them,
through the barn and over wheat fields.
The night fell upon them,
yet the hatchlings were not shaken.
“I can live life as I wish.”,
the child said.
The flock eventually fell apart,
as each juvenile flew to different places.
The hatchling still thought he had it all,
and kept flying further and further.
With its wings in the air,
the birdie felt freedom never like before.
The sky was overcast,
the once fearless birdling no longer flutters,
for the roar of the thunder was frightening.
The resonating sound of fear echos,
as the adolescent rests on the patio of a busy café,
under the bitter cold metal roof.
The café workers shooed the bird away,
it fled to the edge of a skyscraper.
It stood still,
motionless.
Everything seemed minuscule at that height,
The greyscale skyscrapers faded on the horizon.
The bird reminisced the warmth of its mother’s nest,
and headed on the journey home.
The ever-so-familiar voice greeted the soaked birdling,
as it returned to the once-so-familiar place.
“Sit down, it’s dinnertime already!”
I’m sorry, mother, I’m home now.