Nesting Bird

In the end, you were my antithesis.

Yet a strong possibility of what I could be.

Each day indistinguishable as you retreated inward.

Waiting, it seemed, for the end of the road to come to you.

Rather than venturing out to journey its length.

 

Admitaly, it hurt, the invitations you spurned.

The feeling that in order to meet you, it always had to be on your terms.

I feared the gravity of your nest would entrap me too.

And I never could tell if you saw your prison bars closing in.

 

The entrapment which I feared has survived you.

Now that you’re gone, I realize I could never be where I am without you, 

Though I never want to be you.

So guilt surrounds me, pointing fingers of ingratitude.

 

Instead of mentorship, you offered sponsorship.

You gave gifts, but would not receive.

You paid for my adventures, but refused any of your own.

This was something I could not comprehend.

And lack of understanding led to frustration.

 

Even so, it hurts, not to have been there in the end.

Though I’m not sure of what I would have done.

I don’t know how to save a life limited to four feet of space.

The only thing I can do is to continue your legacy, learning from your generosity.

Hoping one day to offer someone else the jubilee you so often gave to me.

 

Continuing the adventure, 

Jess