Once upon a time, there was a little girl…
Who watched the birds fly as their wings curl..
She had to see the world and knew she could try,,
So she sewed a pair of wings and painted it sky…
Once upon a time the kings raged a war,
They snatched away her wings and trapped them in a jar..
They took away the needles and colours of sky,
And shot arrows with the note “Do not dare to fly!”
Once upon a time the arrows broke down,
Music and love surrounded the town..
The little girl learnt to dance and heal sick birds,
And collected their feathers to write afterwards…
Once upon a time the girl found some yarn,
She spun it with the feathers and people begun to warn..
Running through the fields, crying with joy,
She spread her wings and learnt to fly….
“Mom, what are we made of?”
He asked, with his big beautiful black eyes glowing with life..
“We’re all made of dust, Stardust!”
She replied, while staring into the night sky…
I’ve always wished to have wings.. To be able to fly on my own and run my fingers through clouds… I guess we all do.. Right? But what for? What excited Da Vinci’s imagination about the possibility of soaring through the skies that he presented “The flying Machine” to us..? Why did the Wright brothers were so fascinated with the gliders that they changed the course of human civilisation by giving virtual wings for generations to fly.. Was it just a means to travel distances in a shorter period of time or an endless desire to connect.. to connect where we all came from…
Yes, we all came from the same place… Remember? How Adam had to leave his true home.. “The Heavens” in order to make this world a beautiful place.. A new home, a family… But did he forget about the place he belonged to? No..! Afterall, we are all his family too.. Why wouldn’t we wish to fly back…
I heard it… What was that? Was it flying? I should try to get back to my notes, maybe it’s just my brain trying to create more distractions in order to escape from studying for the exam.. But I had to get right back to it.. I don’t wish to be embarrassed in front of “her”.. I mean the whole class tomorrow…. But wait!! I think I saw something.. It’s black! An insect? But it’s flying..!! Nevermind… There, it landed right on my book aaaand it’s a flying Cockroach… Thud!!! I closed the book with a loud scream, thankfully there was no one around to see a young man freaking over an insect.. But now I felt bad for the poor thing.. I killed it!
Back then when I used to walk through the forests with grandpa how I’d run after the fireflies until he’d send me a loud warning.. How I’d play hide and seek with them for hours and how they’d take away my fear of darkness in the middle of a dense forest.. How my heart began to sink when he told me I can’t see them anymore because people are destroying their habitat and I cursed the whole planet for hours and cried like a little baby.. Well, I was only 7… Mmm, 6 and a half technically…. And so I started my campaign to save the fireflies
What made it so different then? People kill them both… They are both insects, right? They both fly… I guess what makes them different is their role.. You see it’s the same with us humans, we all look the same, act the same, breathe, eat, sleep the same… what defines us are our deeds.. And when we decide to overcome the darkness around us.. We glow..!! We become…. well.. A Firefly!!