Bird
I am like a bird afraid of heights,
It is not the clouds I fear,
But the ground below.

The sturdy ground that comforts me beneath my feet,
Terrifies me from the sky above.

As distance and panic grow,
It’s strength becomes a brutal force,
Lethal if I fall.

On the horizon,
a mountain rises to meet me,
A place to land, rest and soar once more.

You are my mountain.

Mountain
I am like a volcano that surges forth,
Rising to contain the rage within.

Fuelled by hot lava, I grow,
Leaving the safety of my cavern.

I am trapped, between my hard outer shell,
and the molten rock within.

A little bird falters and lands on a rocky outcrop,
safe from the wind, then flies again.

The little bird does not yet know to fear the volcano,

You are my little bird.