Migrating birds, flying south.
Winter it comes, and they fly south.
Wings spread far and wide,
Scared they'll fail,
Leaving behind the warmth of the nest.
Her babies migrate for the first time alone.
Nervous and aflutter, she lets them fly.
The adventure is exciting, and also paralysing.
Only her trills of encouragement keep them going.
Scared of the world unknown,
Her babies take the leap of faith
Into the south for winter, and into their own nest
This poem is published in Reflections: An Anthology by the Christchurch Writers' Guild.
Copyright © 2015 Judy L Mohr. All rights reserved.
Updated Copyright © 2025 Judy L Mohr. All rights reserved.
This article first appeared on judylmohr.com
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