“A Nonsensical Fable for Birds” (Grind Day No. 2)

A wise bird once told me to give up. A wise bird once said to give in. A wise bird once flew high and high and then fell by the limbs, fell because the flap of the wings failed, because the sky said, “No,” because the earth said, “Come,” because the wind said, “Fall.” A wise bird once flew up and up to the great blue and empty sky and met the sun, and the sun said, “Burn.” A wise bird once told me to work hard and fail. A wise bird once worked hard and failed. A wise bird once won all the birdsongs’ love and the birdsongs’ worms and the birdsongs’ prizes and the birdsongs’ books and the birdsongs’ validation but the wise bird was not a bird and was a poet instead and the wise poet once told me, a young bird, a young poet, that I will never fly or sing or reach the sun or see the stars because my bird wings were too frail, too weak, too young, too undeveloped, too petty, too sad, too rejected. The wise poet took me by the arms and tried to clip my wings and I almost fell by the burden of my loneliness. But I flew instead. I did not fly to the sun, I did not fly to the stars, I did not fly, I glided, I struggled, I sang, I remembered why the caged bird sings. I flew up and up and up to the clouds, over the sun, and straight to the moon. At the moon, I told the blackness I came from dirt and soil and I once met a wise bird who told me I would never fly. I told the moon she was wrong. I told the moon she was me.


I’ve started this month’s The Grind Daily Writing Series, which was founded by Ross White. It’s a group of amazing writers who band together for a whole month and promise to send each other a piece of prose/poetry/new work/revision/manic mix every day. So, periodically, I’ll update my blog with my silly daily writings. Today’s short prose is a nonsensical fable I wrote about a bird. I hope you enjoy it. ❤

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