written by: The Quiet Quill
Along I glide, alone, but never lonely.
A bird doesn’t fly alone.
I am able to fly with friends close by,
Not following, but helping the flow.
Wings broken with the weight of painful hope,
They fixed me with laughter and love.
With unquestionable trust, they guide and glide,
As gems of happiness fall from my eyes.
They are not the wind beneath my wings;
But the light above that I wonder at.
I smile, they smile, an army in flight,
From them I have learned better life.
It’s not about soaring,
But believing I can.
It’s not touching the sky,
But spreading my wings.
Such beauty in its purest form.
Such strength whatever the weather.
Thank you, you beautiful creatures,
Here’s to you; my birds of a feather.