see here
the virtuous souls
with their still-wet wings
our grounded innocents
'fore they take flight
into the air
of a sky
pushing with the hot currents
we are in their
eyes still seen
as a high shelter
in which to nest
they will abandon
the place
together or apart
to test the wing
abiding
the rules of a higher
regulator
who makes the call
and we consent
so that the nest becomes
a diving-off
place
no urgency
commands their flight
greater than our joined
embrace and our push
it is our
pain paradox
to be selfish and
selfless at once
that of course is
the definition
of mother and father
womb and loin:
give and take
hold and release
harbor and cast off
time and no time
the wind comes nigh
we watch the wings
we turn a back
and they fly
