penguin dreams

Because he wanted to fly, the little penguin fashioned himself some wings.

He gathered twigs, some downy moss, and string, and whatever else he saw that he thought might make a wing. That he had been cold for a very long time was enough to make him believe that a penguin could fly. He spent endless hours watching the way the wind moved the clouds across the sky and he thought, Why can’t I?

While the dawn was just beginning to loose fiery tendrils streaming through the air, the little penguin trekked up to the top of a snow peak, and stood there. He put his wings on, those made from the scantest of things, and he thought, I don’t’ know if they’ll work, but I’ll try.

Hope is the dream of a flightless bird whose only wish is to fly.