Tuesday, May 20, 2008
A flock of Arctic Terns streams by overhead. He sees many familiar faces, and hear their familiar cries. He too had his fair share of annual migratory flights, leading his brethren and children right to the opposite pole of the world. But not any longer - senility has set in, and nature had so coldly robbed him of what he never wholly owned in the first place. This year, he will be spending his winter here. Yearning and longing swell up inside as he watch them tread the fickle winds. A little anger, perhaps. Or was that grim acceptance?
As they trilled and swooped in graceful synchrony, that little bud of an icicle within started to melt. With a sigh of acquiescence, a little nod of his feathery head, he realised that he had taught them well. That was a thought to cherish indeed. And he will never tread the Great Flight again.
***
Sometimes, all you need to do, is to learn to let go.
Wenky
10:34 PM
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