Once the stork was tasked with making an arrow
Created to propel a new force, desperately needed
And so she was shot out on the straight and narrow
To ensure the world’s sacred gardens were properly seeded

Knowing the task was too big for one Fae alone
They prepared her with a foundation of guardians
Ones that would set her feet in most magical stone
The stone made her strong, but kept her from fleeing

She was tied to a life she didn’t quite understand
Feeling the tug of her purpose time and again
Always attentive to the important task at hand
Never able to escape the world’s mayhem

If only, if only she could just get one free pass
To see what it’s like to take that liberating glide
See faeries, they need the feeling of the grass
The sunlight, the music, it lights the fire inside

But when the stork was set to make that arrow
Did they expect the path to stay so straight?
Or were they aware that those paths lead to sorrow?
Is it straying from or staying on that pleases fate?

The path is full of thorns, no matter the route taken
So how does she know when she has strayed too far?
And just how is she to know when she is mistaken?
There is no real answer, but she still looks to the stars