At the Brink
At the nest's edge, the fledging teeters.
(a chick no longer; yet not a hen either)
The quandry; to stay put, or to test virgin wings.
(Papa Owl wisely holds a 200# test silk thread teether)
Innate drives compel the biddy to venture off.
(filial piety courses 'les veines de la poulette')
Habit, then fear, impel the obedient offspring to remain rooted.
(the nest is more than security)
First flight looms like an unwelcomed death wish.
(gravity's death plummet balances the buoyant updraft adventure of hope)
Shear insanity to consider a leap of faith from this perch.
(was there not an express elevator to the ground floor nearby?)
Perchance the inaugural flight should start from nearer terra firma.
(getting out of that execrable shell was test enough)
The fiery eyes of her envious siblings idly scan the timid wench.
(they'll soon get their chance)
Hindsight's so much clearer when you lead from the rear.
(As wisdom seeks another wise old owl to endow)
Sages were once inept goslings too.
(Gramp's seeds'll populate the Earth)
Many broods to educate 'n' forage for in golden years.
(Eternity awaits all; fair or fowl)
Devout birds that prey together, flock together!