The Truth About Birds

Now that I'm a bird
I have to face my fear of heights.
I didn't know a bird could sweat,
but here I am atop a cedar
quivering and hot.

Don't look down, advice
from my former life, but
why become a bird
if I can't look down?

I'm no Helios in his chariot
or Icarus in waxy clouds.
I'm not imitating a bird,
I am a bird whose nature
shuns gravity.

There is nothing for it.
I must do what all birds do:
let a blanket of sky swaddle me
in its splendor, trust silvery thermals
to weave me into wing, call
to Aether, the mother of space,
and let go.