As a bird in flight,
Much is lost along the way….
A feather here and there,
A moment in each day.
When we could have been
Or could have done….
When we may have lost
But could have won.
The dare is in the flight.
The worth is in the dare.
And, the measure of our moment
Is afloat upon the air
Of purpose and consequence,
Held in the breath of time,
Focused upon the goal,
A sight within the mind.
Winged by invisionments
Beyond the fragile limb
We grip in fear
Of what will be
Or might have been.
These are the moments,
Full of uncertainty,
When true birds fly.
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