I spread the left wing out first. A promise of soaring, high above heads, breath taken away by the magnificent view and thrilling winds.
The right wing, next. I feel mighty and grand, presiding over all that is below me. Unlimited power tingling in my . wingtips.
Agility and elegance assured, I leave the branch. Swiftly I glide, wind ruffling my feathers.
Glorious views capture my sharp eye as my powerful wings beat, carrying me across the sky to unlimited possibilities.
Watchful and alert, I observe life below. We're mere specks to one another. That's the magic of height and distance, of flight and coexistence.
I swoop, I dive. My beak is raised in pride. I am mighty. I am strong. I am swift. I fly high, I fly low. I see all, I pass all. Ahead is open sky, opportunities waiting. I just must fly to them.
Never will I take it all for granted, all this wonder and beauty. Watchful, I remain, reward within reach of my outspread wings. I've been granted with flight, and I will soar to the light.