I'm a baby bird

I'm like a baby bird standing on the edge of the nest. 

I've been fed, I've grown tremendously, I've seen others fly, I've done some jump and wing flutters in the nest, and now its my turn. I know I have wings, the tools to fly. 
I just need to jump now. 

I look up into the vast sky awaiting my flight. 
I see other birds soaring, spiraling upward. 
I hear their calls beckoning and encouraging me out of the safe nest. 
I feel the rush of excitement, the desire of complete freedom. 

Yet I look down at the ground and I feel the fear and anxiety, it paralyzes me. I experience a back and forth pull between soaring free and huddling down safe in the nest a bit longer. 

Deep down I know that I'm ready to fly, I long for the breeze in my feathers. 
 But I'm scared to take the leap. 

I know its the hardest part, stepping out there and feeling the free-fall until I gain my stability. 

Nobody can help me with this step, to just give me a little push. 
I must do it myself. 

So I take a breath, 

gather my courage, 


stretch out my wings, 

and I fly.