Speckled

This new life is speckled
and has downy feathers;
fluffy and so very soft
they catch the slightest breezes
of fresh air.

I squint through eager eyes
yet can barely see
the edges of my  humble nest
and hunger rumbles
in the depths of my being
warning of some want
that I never knew I had.

How do I prepare myself
for the spaces that will glide
far below in the green
and unknown places?

I have seen others preen
and make themselves presentable;
adjust their heavenly uniforms
so beautifully,
to ready the threads
that hold them in the sky
using the tip of a beak
to adjust each hollow
brush of sturdiness.

I have almost forgotten.

My bones are hollow.
My courage is growing.
My heart has broken open
and is a fledgling
once again.