It should be known that I hate birds. It is partly out of fear and partly is because I think at least fowl and larger birds are evil. I can handle smaller birds and can stand pet birds, like cockatiels. Roosters, swans, and geese are not okay in my book.
I have had a few negative run-ins with birds in my life. The first one I remember is the swan that attacked me and my now step-sister.
Until I was 10 I lived across the street from my uncles’ pig farm. They also had goats and chickens. I would always go over there and one day I went with my step-sister.
We went into the goat’s area. It was a fenced in patch of land that was a bit rocky, but grass still grew.
I did not realize that a swan made a nest and laid eggs in the grass, until I got too close. The swan chased my step-sister and me. We scrambled up some rocks, since we could not get back to the gate. There was a thorny bush on the other side of the fence. There was a short argument about leaping the fence, since we would be jumping into the thorns. The evil swan was ready to attack, but no major injuries occurred. I believe we jumped the fence or one of my uncles came to chase the bird away.
I want to say my uncle chased away the massive bird with a shovel in hand, but I can only remember the terror of the swan’s attack with its flapping wings and the feeling of being trapped.
This could be amazing;
ride upon unicorns
over sparkling rainbows
while bards play magical melodies
and wild nymphs dance on trees
Others may spring into light
out of sheer joy.
This could bring delightful dancing doggies
or curiously cute cats,
wonders upon wonders could be brought.
On the other hand
if you flip the tape,
reverse my hopes,
show my fears.
This could be terrible,
rotted death could ooze out its orifices
like black tar filled humiliation
and the sulfur smell of dying dreams
those that were crushed by failure,
which would cause a dank cave
to become a bare home for my soul
with only swollen sadness
to guide my lonely days.
There is a burning flame
a flickering fire inside
that holds to the unicorn
almost seeing the sparkling rainbow
even if dying dreams are crushed by failure
new one will arise
out of the dream pulp
or ashes of failure.
The phoenix that is my heart
will go on
I worry about winter
When summer is near,
When spring only now
Is fading into a sweet memory.
Yes, I fear the cold frigid storms
When the Sun shines bright
Warming the already hot air.
I worry and fear
But I convice myself not tonight.
For the night must be for dreams,
dream that could turn into reality.
Oh, how I want to force
my reality into my dreams,
Push my hopes into a cage
Or wish my life far far away.
Yet, there must be a different way
A new path, a strange way.
A road away from the fears
Of freezing on the road
Of needing to stop because of the cold.
How can I force summer to stay?
Is there a way
To stop seasons from changing
to stop life from living?
No, I suppose there is no way
Of stopping the world from turning and life from living,
But reality does not need to stay
And the life lived can be what dreams make.