Learning to Sing

He who has overcome his fears is truly alive.

The spheres peered dark and impenetrable into the vastness beyond. They blinked; open and closed. Too struck with fear to do more, the eyes shot to the right and searched. Nothing. Over to the left they darted, hoping to find safety, a sympathetic voice? Nothing.

No hope, no kindness, nor succor to tenderly lift the fallen heart. His eyes, like his hopes, wilted.

His chest ruffled and fluttered. The tiny cavity lifted and fell like trembling ripples across a pond. How could he proceed? He stretched his thin neck in yearning, his chest thundered and a force, a mighty surge, welled upward wanting to grace the skies. His jaws ripped open his tiny dark eyes grew wide, drinking in the glory of this morning. It would be this morning. Yet… it choked, stifled, as the thoughts rampaged his mind. He swallowed. His heart plummeted alone to the bowels of his being. Would it never be?

A sound tore at him, it came from nearby, no more than two branches away. He shuffled in his pillowy world and peered over the nest wall. He immediately saw her. She was three or four days younger, yet she stood on the highest point in her nest and beckoned for respect or notice, to welcome the morning and most likely to be fed. Her voice trundled through him rattling his bones. She was exquisite, complete in her soul song…