There is a myth that birds sing when they are happy.

It is just as true as any other myth you’ve heard.

I have a myth that birds were never content to begin with,

for the same reason we are either born crying or born dead.

A bird will fall from its nest before it learns to fly.

This is a tribute to every bird who has fallen from the nest

and was never able to fly back up.

This is for the early birds,

who carried the weight of their wings without ever using them,

who rest with their eyes closed and prayed with their eyes wide open,

who saw nothing in the sky,

who looked below and saw more than they could handle,

who were brought into the world in panic and doubt,

who were brought into the world in silence,

who never ventured far enough,

who only know adventure.

I have a myth about a small creature with feathered wings 

I have a myth about you.