Letting Go

by Jill Euclide

I imagine baby birds do not welcome flying lessons:

Frantically clinging to the nest’s edge,

Heart racing in anticipation,

The shadow of Mama Bird

Threatening

Paralysis requires her to pry

Talon after talon

Image credit: Usha Kiran on Unsplash

From small twigs and pieces of nest detritus,

The task, nearly impossible.

Both parties know this will- must- happen.

Neither welcome the inevitable struggle.

I have clung to safety beyond my years of need:

Hours of intense conversation;

A mirror of my own space;

Moments of introspection

In complete vulnerability,

Seen and known with unique intimacy.

It saved my life,

Launched a journey exquisitely painful:

Blindly groping my way through mazes.

Surviving dark nights clinging to branches,

Certain I was going to fall to dramatic death.

Only to pull myself up

Into the nest,

Into the feather lined recesses

Of safety.

Today,

It is time to let go.

At worst, it is a quick death,

Falling to dirt below.

My wings no longer bear soft under-feathers

Of youthful innocence,

I am built of strong bone, strong sinew,

Tenacity and grit.

I cannot see

My ability to remain steady amid buffeting winds

To weather life’s storms

With grace and grit, 

Battered but not breaking.

But she does.

I beg her:

Throw me off the ledge.

And she responds:

Why don’t you just let go?

***

Jill Euclide

As a wife and mother of five, Jill Euclide juggles family life while nurturing aspiring writers as a high school English teacher. An avid runner and passionate gardener, Jill finds joy in nurturing plants, words, and souls. Recently, she has rekindled her love for writing, proudly showcasing her work in various publications. With each word, she hopes to sow seeds of inspiration and empathy for fellow sojourners on the journey.