The winged one would soar above Mother Earth gazing upon all the beauty which she had bestowed upon her beloved creatures.  There were times he would get so lost in her essence, he would forget to land and take his morning bounty from her.

This was going on too long and the little winged one weakened until one day he dropped within her misty breath.  Half dead and lying on the muddy banks he managed to pick himself up, but his wings would no longer carry him.  Filled with heartache he moved on looking at the world as a two-legged, now bound to earth.

Grandmother Moon watched his journey from that iridescent place, as he cried at his great error.  Nightfall was coming and he had always found safety and warmth within the creaking tree.  He had no idea what to do or where to take shelter in this New World which he had arrived in.

As he hobbled along the lip of the river, he came across a bramble bush.  Carefully he slipped within its thorns and laid his head to rest.  His being was swarming with thoughts of flight on this dark and shadowy night.

Morning came and the winged one was awoken by the sounds of the other creatures gathering for their daily nourishment.  His body ached with both fear and hunger; he knew he would have to abandon his place of hiding to eat.

The tiny tsi’tha moved out of his place of comfort, slowly entering a land in which he did not know.  To his surprise, the others welcomed him within their circle.  This moved him a great deal as he was more than honored to join them, for abundance was plentiful.  The tiny one ate and ate, he almost kept up with the great tso:ka’we standing nearby on his right.

Tired and weary he decided to seek comfort once more within his bramble bush.  It was there that he lay with a full stomach and a calm that blanketed the little one for yet another evening on his earthbound journey.

As the days turned into many moons the winged one was getting quite forgetful of where he had once come from.  The Cloud People were not even noticed as they called to him from above.  Even Grandmother Moon would whisper the sweet remembrances of flight to the tsi’tha while he slumbered but to no avail.  This saddened Grandmother Moon for she knew what the small frail one was about to endure.

As the cold blew its chilly breath across the waters and coated to leaves with its crisp brilliance, the landscape began to change her appearance from warmth and beauty, to an icy cold bitterness.  The winds blew strongly and left a coating of frozen rime on everything within its path.

Grandmother Moon’s light glistened upon the grassy appendages that were once a grand food source for the numerous creatures that have long been nestled away for the winter.

The little one tries to stay warm with his head tucked beneath his wounded wings.  The forest now desolate, creature friends all gone, hidden away from the cold in their winter abodes.  All that is left now is this cold bleak never-ending winter torment.  The silence that now engulfs the land plays with his mind and echoes the thoughts of distant days when the winds breathed life to his now unfamiliar wings.

As the buds of onerahtokha begin to unfold, Mother Earth once again breathes her breath of life throughout the land.  Grandmother Moon looks for her little one to see how he has fared through the dark and lonely winter months of tsothohrha, the time of cold.  He lay in his bramble bush deeply affected by the thoughts that kept him alive, the thoughts of life and longing to use his wings once more.

As he creeps out of his tattered and worn shelter, he walks lamely from the scars left over from the cold and bitter winter months.  Grandmother Moon and the Cloud People had watched the torment and sorrow that the little winged one had encountered.

The Cloud People suggested to Grandmother Moon that she call upon the Four Winds to raise the little one once more.  As the winged one dragged himself onto the path of the two-leggeds his fatigue was apparent.  He could feel something pulling him, driving him; the beat of a distant drum was within him.  His heart grew stronger as he felt Mother Earth, whom he loved looking at with such reverence from above.

Mother Earth began to caress him with her heartbeat as Grandmother Moon brightened herself from across the sun.  The Four Winds started to blow their gentle breeze; the Cloud People were calling him by name.  The ones he loved so dear warmed his heart. He longed to join again with the feeling of flight.
The winds started to encircle his small weakened wings, the breath of the Four Winds penetrated his frail body and gave him a strength he had not felt for many moons.  It appears all he had endured during the winter months was washed away, the scars falling from him as though they had never been.

The Four Winds opened and started blowing gusts to lift the little tsi’tha.  He felt himself becoming lighter, spreading his wings with anticipation, and longing to greet the sky, He felt emotions of fear and excitement, as he knew that he was about to feel the sensation of flight.

His little body began to lift, as his feet were no longer earthbound.  He looked down and saw everything beneath him become smaller.  His wings started to flutter as they once had a lifetime ago.  He is looking at Mother Earth from that place in which he loved to gaze upon her beauty.  It felt so good to have feelings of freedom once more.  He bid the earth farewell as his heart grew light, one that was whole and healed.  And so, it was the little robin was in flight, the way it was always meant to be.