I do not know why I return anymore.  You will never heal.  You will never be well.  Yet something draws me back to here, an invisible strand that pulls my gaze in this direction, leading my mind here so that my body has no choice but to follow.  Love can do that to you.  So once again I bank my wings in the still morning air and drift amongst the clouds, heading for that snow-capped peak where you make your home.  No one goes there anymore.  We immortals do not like to see the crippled among us and so we hide you away, deep amongst the mountains depths.  Why let someone who cannot fly see the sun?

            I wept when you lost your wings.  I did not understand why I wept, just that something terrible had happened and that tears were appropriate.  Then I saw the pain in your eyes, years later I finally saw, and I wept again.  That was the first time I left you, the pain too great to bear for me.  My dragon-hide cannot protect against the pain of seeing you gaze at the sky and keen a lament for what has been lost.  I wish I could fix things for you, give you back the spider-silk and bamboo bone that let your heart and dreams dance among the thunder and rain.

            It seems so much has been robbed from you.  Your wings, your pride, your life.  You sit there, in your cave, and watch the world revolve around you, infinitely slow as the grains of sand on the beach.  We have all the years before us, undying, forever strong.  And you can only rest in your cave of stalactite and stalagmite and let your bones seep into the stone.  Will you turn as gray as the rock around you?  As uncaring, perhaps, as uncaring as I once was?  Do not protest, you can see into my jeweled eyes and I think you know the truth.  You hurt me, you laying there in your pain and sorrow.  We hurt each other.

            I leave too often to be considered loving.  I fly away for the darkness you harbor down here is too great for my heart to bear.  I cannot grasp it, I cannot touch it.  It is too much a part of me now and to let it seep back into my soul would mean my ruin.  I would shackle my wings to dim the guilt, stripping the flesh off bone in repentance.  For harbored behind the fire of my heart hide hateful, vile, truths.  I hated you because you lost your wings.  I blamed you for my pain at seeing you crippled.  Yet that is something neither of us will say, turning aside at the moment of truth and speaking of mundane things; or nothing at all.  You want to see me fly.  I want to see you forgive me and reclaim strength.

            I understand why you do this.  You believe your time is over, that the skies belong to me and that I should loop silver rings in the stars.  Do not worry about the old and fallen, your time is over, mine is just beginning.  And I see this in you and I use it as an excuse to run, to fling myself off of high cliff tops into the howling wind, launching myself further each time, going away, anywhere, away.  You cannot follow and your pain cannot fly as fast as I.  So for a moment I loose myself by trying to touch the sun, only to glance down and remember that there is another, one who can only watch the sun wheel overhead, day by day, unchanging, ignored by the rest of the world.  And again I must bank my flight, curb my dreams, and return.  You weep blood, and I look away.  You stagger and fall, and I drop my head.  Forgive me for this.  Forgive me for not having the strength to even carry myself with the grace I deserve.  Chase my dreams through the unending sky.  I want to, oh how I want to, but my past is made of steel, looped about my heart in a perfect cage.  Love is too strong to be forgotten.  And you are my father.