Captured, But Not Captive

Hawk perched on the wooden dowel. Waiting for his meal. His wing grew stronger with the passing of each day. He knew it would not be long before he was soaring high in the heavens. How he longed to be free.

The women who found him and fixed him; talked to him daily. Letting him know he would not be a prisoner there. He would be strong enough one day to soar again.

He tried to patiently wait for the day of his release. While knowing he would miss some of his healing days, as the women who tended him, gave him hope. Her kind eyes always met his piercing gaze as she handed him his meal.

He planned to watch over her when he was free. Keeping the mice and rabbits out of her yard.

Owl Grant Your Wish

Owl sat on his tree limb, waiting, as always, for a wish to buzz by.

Bzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz…

“There it is!” He laughed.

Grabbing it out of the air with his beak. He quickly grasped it in his talons, and gently unfolded it.

“I wish for a new bike.” The wish said.

“We will see.” thought Owl.

He closed his eyes and brought up a vision of the boy who wished for a new bike.

The boy was playing with a group of kittens, who’s mom was out hunting a meal for them. The boy had sandy blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a heart that shone brightly.

Owl smiled and choose to grant the wish.

The next day, Timmy, the boy who wished for a bike, was in town with his mom. They were buying groceries.

Upon leaving the store, Timmy saw an ad for a bike, like the one he wished for. He asked his mom if he could have the bike. She smiled and said they would have to see how much it cost.

Timmy sighed. Praying it did not cost much.

It turned out, the boy who owned the bike had bought a new bike and wanted to pass his old bike onto someone else.

The someone else turned out to be Timmy.

Opportunities Are Knocking

I heard a tapping at the door. Grumbling to myself, I uncurled from my seat, set my book down, and went to the door.

You stood there. Disheveled and ragged. It was hard to tell if the rain caused your unappealing appearance, or if you naturally looked that way. Tufts of blonde stuck out in all directions.

Your eyes sought mine. Pleading for shelter. Pleading for warmth and comfort from the storm.

The covered porch was keeping you dry for now, but the wind howled in gusts causing those blond tufts to continuously rearrange in a new disheveled state.

Pleading, soulful, brown eyes looked at me.

I knew what would happen if I let you in. I knew you would steal my heart. Uproot my life. Even knowing this, I stepped aside.

You trotted past. Sniffing at the table where my keys lay in a bowl. Tail slightly wagging; you looked back at me. In your eyes was relief to be warm and pleading to be accepted.

I patted your head, and suggested you get dry and fed. You grinned. More at the prospect of eating, then the drying part, I know.

Dry, fed, and warm. You sat at my feet while I posted a picture of you on the lost and found. Praying you were not lost to someone, but found.

Gloriously Whole

If it's bent,
it is not broken.
If it's broken,
it is not shattered.
If it's shattered,
it is not whole.

Yet with a soul,
it can be broken.
It can be bent.
It can be shattered.
It will be whole.

The broken pieces are not needed;
they can be swept away.
The bent pieces create a newness that lives today.
The shattered parts were just illusions; parts we were told to play.

We let them go.

The broken.
The bent.
The shattered.
To find we are gloriously whole.

Hooray!