Drooping Wings

I feel like I alighted on a branch, which has served me well, but lately either it has grown weak with age or I have grown too much for it to continue to hold me. That's alright because things wear out and we outgrow them, but I can't see the next branch or I can't reach it or something. It leaves me feeling desperate, grabbing at just any branch, knowing if I can just let go of the need for security, my wings will catch an upward current of air, and yet my panic just doesn't abate.
I had a horrid day at work. I work for very little money at a job that is very emotionally demanding. The only reason to do such a thing is if it brings you joy. Not only does it not bring me joy at the moment, it seems to be drinking the joy right out of the well I have been filling throughout my life. Much of my frustration lies in the fact that I am from another planet. Where I work there are several of my fellow aliens, but we serve an earthling population and we are not always understood although our motives are incredibly noble, thoughtful, and benevolent. Today I overheard two of my colleagues talking. One wanted to know what she could do to help her young child who seemed to fall apart in tears at the smallest things, like spilled water. The other said, he is mourning the loss of summer and you can reassure him that it will come again by giving him flower teas, by spreading honey on everything he eats, by rubbing his hands with a lotion scented with summer flowers. Most people would think this was at best airy-fairy nonsense and at worst, lunacy. But it's how it is on my planet. Summer's passing is a real grief. Babies cross a rainbow bridge to find their parents. Angels feed on our courageous deeds. An understanding of the rivers and the oceans begins with the first raindrops that ever touch our skin. There is so much joy in the way I see the world and it hurts so much when I am scorned for it.