What I want you to know is that I’ve decided to grow wings.  I know you wanted to keep me down, tie me down, and silence me, but it can’t be helped.  The pinions have come in like wisdom teeth you see, and the back of my shoulders have a second set of blades there now.  You probably can’t see them.

I know, it’s ok. You’ve never been able to see me very well.

But I just want you to know I’m ok.  I’m going to fly, and you can keep the cage and the trappings and all of the spoken and unspoken rules you expected me to live by.

The light is lovely this morning.  The sun has come up over the mountains and is shining on the tops of the hills.  The trees sparkle in the golden light.  I’m taking to the air now.

Don’t worry.  I forgive you.  I never fit in there anyway.  Bye, now.

(The whoosh of air as I ascend.)