Fledgling Wings

Hope is all I have.

She is small,
but Fierce,
and
like me,
she is Enough.

She flies on fledgling wings
born of fire and ash.

She harbors no fugitives
in her newfound feathers.
They are simply there
to help her take flight,
to protect her young,
and to keep her warm
when Doubt attempts
to spreads his chill over her soul.

From under the battlements
of Unhappiness
She takes to the air,
Screeching her triumph
Into the storm swept sky.

She Knows she deserves
More than This.

She would rather go hungry
than eat from the dual carcasses of
Despair and Darkness ever again.

Defying the burning pyre
that was
supposed to be
Her funerary bed,
She wheels and dances on the wind.

Rising ever higher
in a flurry of Grace,
touched by Love,
bolstered by Friendship,
with Strength gained by Action,
She sings her Willingness
to the heavens
As an act of Joyous Survival,
Turns three times above me,
then settles down
to build her safe-haven
in my Heart.