birds

what 

bitter 

truth 

for baby 

birds 

that 

no one 

can learn 

to fly 

for them 

that the 

thresholds  

of familiarity 

are as dangerous 

as the 

warm updraft 

is liberating 

I wonder 

if they 

too

resent

sometimes  

that

there 

is 

no 

substitute

for the 

courage 

it takes 

to expand 

to heal 

to grow

to fly