My wing span

My early years were spent breathing, eying out the details
Then my fingers turned into wings that bared the words from books
And as my mind grew it fell into the wishing well
Because I learned to reach for what couldn't be held
And there I wandered....

Only when swept by sticks and stones did I learn my lesson
Then peeling away the flesh he said would tell me stories
There I learned of my past and present

But birds could only carry so much into my future
That's when God put pencil to paper and taught me how to lighten these old hands.