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Over the last five years I’ve taught half-a-dozen people how to ride a bicycle. I started with Herren, a twentysomething who’d never learned to ride and then graduated to youngsters between five and eleven years old, but one of my current students is sixty and rather hard on herself. We’ve only had two lessons and made some progress but I felt she needed a little poem to put things in perspective.

Fledglings from the nest
she bumped out with love
nearly broke her heart
while watched from above.
Though knew they were safe
under watchful gaze
of her lifelong mate
aerial ballet.

Mere flutter of wings
some can soar with ease
others time does take
‘fore they’re in the breeze.
Sweetest victory
follows long campaign
once you’ve learned to fly
warble with champagne.

Little Mama bird
was her turn to fly
song oviparous
longed so for the sky.
Nestlings had all flown
scattered to the winds
won’t just pine away
with them go soaring.

Tired of impotence
she resolved to sail
nature’s own sine wave
battled to prevail.
Song warbled by Byrds
Ecclesiastes
every season sang
confraternities.

Lucky twenty-one,
book Hebrew Bible,
three times seven times
downward did spiral.
Heart filled with despair
self-flagellation,
continued her quest
taste of elation.

So many attempts,
so little success,
hard for her to see
unsteady progress.
Learning a new skill,
each of us unique,
fall not in despair
sinewave troughs and peaks.

Little Mama bird
longed to take to breeze
gravity whole world
pulls on all birdies.
Progress that was made
slow, unsteady rate
early April dawn
to the skies did take!

Journey thousand miles
begins, so it’s said,
single beat of wings,
she soars overhead!
Victory most sweet
triumph hard fought for
Mama bird now knows
upwards she can soar!

Everything turn, turn,
purpose and a time
four seasons of life
to new heights can climb.
Embrace challenges
rich harvest can reap
purpose filled lifetime
joyful chirp, chirp, chirp!