Mama come quick! Look at this! The young squirrel cried in delight His eyes lit wide as he pointed, at an exotic squirrel taking flight When I grow up Mama, I’ll fly like that, soaring from tree to tree She smiled as she gave him a nut, told him what will be will be At school the young squirrel told the whole class, of his plans to fly one day He frowned as they howled with laughter, then left him on his own to play He told his Mama about the other squirrels: they were all so mean to me She smiled as she gave him a nut, told him if he can see it, then it can be So the squirrel put his head down, worked hard and ignored their jokes He kept his vision close to his heart, though it was never something he spoke He said goodbye to his Mama, when it was his time to leave the drey She smiled as she gave him a nut, told him to follow his gut every day The squirrel went into the wide world, his dream etched upon his soul To feel the wind rushing by as he soared through the sky, to finally reach his goal He set to work on a wing suit, drawing blueprints fervently He smiled as he ate a nut, lost in visions of what could be The big day came to test the suit, arms spread wide on a branch of the tree This was the day he’d finally fly, show them all what he could see He jumped, for a moment felt the joy of flight, before he began to plummet down His mind in a panic, he braced his body, impacted hard with the ground Battered and bruised he trudged back home, his suit a tattered mess He got to work again that night, determined next time would be a success Each day for months he tried and failed, gathered an audience as word spread Through the forest of this squirrel trying to fly, who would surely end up dead At the back of the crowd a young hawk, watched on with empathy Refraining from gossip, intrigued by the hope, of doing things differently For the young hawk harboured her own dream, which she kept close to her chest Against all culture and breeding, she had found a veggie diet suited her best She dreamt of a world where she wouldn’t be shamed, for eating carrots and kale One where she could be friends with all things, instead of snatching them by the tail If this squirrel could change the way things were, perhaps there was hope for her yet She returned every day, hoped and prayed, for the young squirrels dreams to be met One fateful day the squirrel, climbed to the top of the highest tree Convinced his other failures, were down to a lack of velocity He closed his eyes and visualised, saw himself soaring through the air He jumped…the onlookers held their breath, as he plunged down in despair Instinct moved the hawk, as she sprang from her perch on a branch She knew she had to move quickly, she knew she was his only chance Her sharp eyes focused, claws stretched wide, she grabbed him by the tail She pulled up from the dive, whilst the onlookers sighed, letting out a collective exhale As she soared through the sky, the squirrel opened his eyes, heart leaping at what he could see The ground passing by, as he glided up high, arms stretched wide and finally free He looked up to the hawk who gave a screech of delight as they circled slowly round Ever decreasing circles, they landed gently upon the ground From that day on a friendship grew, the likes of which is rare to find The hawk and the squirrel flew every day, paying the forest gossips no mind For in each other they had found a kindred spirit, each forging their own path anew Away from what they were told they should be, the hawk plant based, the squirrel flew At the end of our tale, the two good friends, visited the squirrels drey They were greeted by his Mama, who cared nothing for what others might say She welcomed them both with open arms, smiled as she gave them a nut Told them dreams come true in extraordinary ways, if we’re able to trust our gut.
I can’t tell you why I write these kinds of rhyming stories, it just sort of happened.
It started with a snail. Writing about his journey brought him alive in my heart and gave me a newfound appreciation for snails everywhere.
Writing these stories makes me feel closer to the beauty of the natural world.
But up until yesterday, when I read a comment by Flow into Words, I had no idea I was writing fables!
It feels good to put a name to it. Of course, this brought back all sorts of hazy memories of hearing Aesop’s fables, but I wasn’t conciously aware this was what I was doing.
So, thank you to Flow into Words, reading your comment made me smile in delight as clarity dawned.
If you haven’t already had a look at her site, The Good, The Truth and the Beautiful, then please do, she has some beautiful poetry and heartfelt insights into personal growth and motherhood.
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