Poem: The Fledgling

The Fledgling I Once Was

by Catt Foy

I might have flown sooner
I knew I was born to fly
But a fledgling, bald and wet and blind
Cannot yet fly
No matter how strong the desire
Nor how deep the talent.
Once can only mewl and cry for nourishment
And struggle and wait
For practice and growth to bring mastery.
In due time
In due time
I might have flown sooner
But I did not yet have
The feathers to fly.

Composed while thinking about how much I love what I do now--writing, art, channeling, Psycards, etc.--and why I didn't do it sooner.  Mother's Day, 2013.

Thought for the day:  Religion is for people who don't remember dying.