Winkling

The little winkling came to be

And it was small and bright

It shone quite softly through the storm

Lit by its own light

It ran and flew and zoomed and hid

So that it could not be found

It's not that it was shy or scared

It just simply could not be bound

It yearned to be free so there it went

Alone into the wind and rain

It could not be bothered by the squall

Because it felt no pain

Before the winkling came to be

All it did was hurt

It suffered and cried and gave it back

And buried its anger 'neath the dirt

It had not become the winkling yet

Its agony was too great

It lived its life as a wonkster

And all it felt was hate

It had not yet learned to fly

It was tethered to the ground

But when it finally sprang its wings

It soared without a sound

Up and away and off it went

Praying never to be caught

From the earth to the sky to the clouds to the moon

From a square to a circle to a dot

- P