I am Jealous of the Birds

Hundreds of feet in the air, arched atop the highest peak of the mountain's edge.

A sway of the wind, a chill of the spine to the weightless plummet.

Falling, closer, and closer to inevitable destruction.

I release my arms in hopeful triumph, welcoming the wind beneath me

liberating from the tethered weight of gravity.

The life I once knew, behind me. The temptations of the past don't bare weight; I am free.

No missed chances, or loss. No depression, or malice.

Just me, the clouds and heaven.

The rising sun creates a new day of survival in freedom and newness.

Early bird gets the worm and power alike.

A bird does not fear, dwell or second guess.

Traveling cross nations at a whim, lying a nest where need be.

Not suppressed by any earthly thing -- I long to be closer to God like they.

I am jealous of the birds.