Wings are gliding through skies of blue. Birds the boundless explorers. Songs rejoice the morning. Gathering scraps to make a home and when grown they let go.
Planes have a strict schedule and a single direction. Hardened and sharp to the point. No time for laughter only passenger irritation. We mustn’t be late. Two in flight yet one with a light heart. Our schedules, routines and expectations they change the game.
You mustn’t do this and must that. Have we forgotten to play? When did it become all so serious? When smiles turned to frowns? Can we shift gears, take off some weight and stop storing dates?