O’ Wing’ed ones
How free are thee
Soaring ever higher
Alert black beads glint in the sun
Soft down fluffs up
Thy shield against cold weather. A royal order they possess
Strong hawks to
Lowly sparrows.
The large the small the bright the drab
Together in one kingdom. Their common language
chirps and trills
staccato calls of "Danger"
A simple life of simple wants
Enough to eat. A thicket.
And through it all, the gift of
flight.
With Heaven ever nearer.