A bird with beautiful wings flew around, never landing in fear of someone taking it. Then they found a group of birds, all with beautiful wings, spread wide and proud.
“Spread your wings little bird, there is nothing to fear, you will be well-loved here.”
The bird kept her wings tight to her, still in fear of someone taking what was beautifully hers. But day by day, the little bird opened her wings, a feather at a time, until one day, she let them shine. As she walked with her wings wide open, glinting in the sun everyone admired her.
“What beautiful wings you have!”
“They are the most beautiful of all of us!”
“We must show the king what beautiful wings she has!”
And all the birds took her to the king, the leader of the flock and they showed her off, her precious wings that glittered in the sunlight. The king was impressed and asked her to come with him to the edge of the forest where the sun’s light blanketed the heaviest.
There her wings sparkled like never before, and there she found the king had been beguiling her with his talks of her beauty, for there the poachers attacked.
She fought and screamed as the poachers grabbed her wings, the snip snip of scissors cut through the sound of the birds flying away to safety.
She fought and screamed as the scissors touched her wings until she finally broke free
As she fled the scene the blood streamed in rivulets off her wings, matched her tears.
She finally landed atop a hill, alone in her grief, her wings were still there, and they were still beautiful, but now a sliver of a scar grew that she would never be able to harvest, its roots would stay grounded in her wings.
Her tears formed a cenote beneath her feet.
While the wound on her wings healed, the one in her heart did not, the scar would forever be seen, never fading.
She traveled once again, and found a new group of birds, with wings of shimmering glass as hers once were.
They urged her to open her wings and share her beauty with them, but she never would, only in times of solitude, when she was absolutely sure she was alone, did she let her wings open, and she admired her beauty.
About the Creator
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More stories from Kelsey Winds and writers in Poets and other communities.
OF MOTHERHOOD.
Dear mother-to-be, I wanted to let you know how very, very special I think you are. I don't think there can be any job that is more meaningful than the one you are about to begin, that of being a mom. You are the most important person in the world to your precious unborn baby, and you will be for many years.
By Catherine Nyomenda3 days ago in Writers
Comments (1)
Gosh this was so heartbreaking 😭😭😭😭 Unfortunately, so many of us are victims of this.