Each feather pulled by hand,
Sealed with wax.
The first few are sloppy
Where too careful fingers were
Confused.
As time passes,
A feather, a wax seal,
One after the other in repetitive
Creation. Perfection.

They laugh.
They always do.
The sneers and jeering
Voices that have been there
Since time began.

A smile.
A warm hug.
A warning whispered in the ear:
Don't fly too high.
I won't, whispered back.
Everything is golden
When wings slip on.
Feathers and a wax seal.

There is only silence
When the wind picks up.
Feathers and wax.
Flesh and blood.
Muscles bunch under taunt skin
And then –
Airborne!

Ignore the gasps,
The praise.
Continue flying
And look back as
Land fades and draws
Away, disappears.

East, a smile in the sky.
Noon, a warm hug.
West, a gentle warning:
Don't fly too high.
But why?
Everything is golden
When wings slip off.
Feathers and a wax seal.