And he’ll keep me warm and safe tonight against this unholy, frozen blight,
Frightening though it be for me, tightening of the throat, and face whitening,
You can trace the lines of fear of things far and near, and in my heart hear terror,
Except for the wings that cover me, bringing calm peace, singing serenity,
Giving me new identity in an absurd outpouring of love, mercy and grace.
There comes that time for birds to away-fly the nest,
And this is best as the Creator provides for maturity
In the surety of independence in security of the self
After being brought the necessities of life for a time
And taught the ways of night and day in this world,
But, oh, how hard for papa to let go, as the bard tells:
He would practically sell his soul to keep them home
And he could write a tome of all of the reasons why
They are not quite ready to fly away into sunlit day;
Instead, he sheds many tears and lets go of his fears
As he promises always to be near when if need calls
And they’re about to fall, but there is yet a farewell
The pain of which only parents can tell . . . farewell;
Not that they will not see them again as time spins,
But it is different — a sort of reverent suffering —
As the new birds fly high into the sky as papa sighs:
He once flew to that altitude with confident attitude
And an healthy amount of gratitude to his Maker . . .
Ah! But is his offspring not now flying higher than he,
And is it not supposed to be this way . . . yes, this day!
And so the generations pass with lad and lass gone
While the next one is given birth on this age-old earth
. . .
So it is and so it shall be