I am a bird with two broken wings.
With love and encouragement from those around me,
they lift me up.
They nurse my injuries tenderly and lovingly.
I choose to listen to the positive voices around me and inside me.
They guide me.
Though my wings were shattered, I flew the coop.
In my new nest, my wings continue to heal
with the love of those around me before,
plus those around me now.
Those that I choose to let into my life.
I've had to learn to compensate for my injuries and adapt.
This has made me stronger.
I've learned other ways to get where I need to be.
Slowly my wings feel stronger and more steady.
There are still many times I fall, but I persevere.
Because it's worth it, even when it doesn't seem to be.
Worth the heartache, adversity, uncertainty.
Maybe someday my wings will heal, but not without scars.
The scar tissue will strengthen them further,
and make them more beautiful.
Maybe someday I can even soar like I did
before my wings got broken,
but I'll soar in a new direction.
And if my wings should break again, I will persevere,
repeating the steps above, perhaps skipping a few.
All this from love, through love, for love, with love.