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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