Every time I see a redbird
hope’s bruised wings flutter,
and I know you are willing
me to fight and win this
war of the worlds
within.

You held me close those early years,
taught me to fly high
with grace, determination,
and wings unfurled; to sing,
to soar free, to
be me.

Grandma, how did I lose the dream
you shared, that vision
of who I was or would be?
Angel in red, you’ve come
to remind me
again.

Every time I see a redbird
I remember when.
Too, I smile to think that I
have you still here with me
whispering, “Time
to fly!”