Bladey, Bladey,
tiny blade of sun and dew,
eyes up high all day long…
wants to touch the clouds—so soft and true!
“Stay down here!” they whisper,
“Grass can’t fly, it’s just not done.”
But she stretches, slow and steady,
gazing at the sky’s bright blue.
She just knows there’s something lovely
up among the white and fluff—
something soft, and bright, and happy…
calling gently, “Come on up!”
Up, up, Bladey!
Flutterwing is on her way!
Up, up, don’t you worry—
sky is waiting, bright and gray!
Meadow shrinks beneath you,
clouds are close enough to hold…
One small blade with big dreams
is about to touch the sky—so bold!
Old Oak asks her softly:
“Why reach so far, my dear?”
“’Cause there’s beauty way up yonder—
I just need to feel it near!”
He calls his rainbow friend at dawn,
Flutterwing with wings so wide,
“Hop on, little dreamer—
let’s go touch the sky!” she cries.
Up, up, Bladey!
Flutterwing is on her way!
Up, up, don’t you worry—
sky is waiting, bright and gray!
Meadow shrinks beneath you,
clouds are close enough to hold…
One small blade with big dreams
is about to touch the sky—so bold!
She clings to wings that shimmer,
wind hums soft against her side,
earth becomes a green dot…
heaven opens, wide and wide!
She stretches out her tiniest leaf—
touches cloud, so cool and white!
“I did it!” she shouts with joy,
heart alight with pure delight!
Back below, she trembles:
“Clouds smell like rain and light!
And the world from way up high
is a dream that shines so bright!”
The other blades fall silent…
then look up, one by one.
And the tiniest one whispers:
“What if… I could… too?”
Bladey, Bladey…
touched the sky.
Bladey, Bladey…
made the meadow dream.