“Bird”

Morning to the world; sun up from the east. 

The flight to take? Will it be to the north?

It looks this way, that way. More than a beast. 

The air is brisk,  the crisp wind says,  “Bring forth!” 

When will it leave? Does time really matter? 

Is it seeking solace at a new place? 

Any movement will make others scatter. 

If so, it will be part of the long race. 

Stoic and unchanging for a brief time;

Waiting and waiting. Wind picking up some.

Wings still down, but at a ready to climb. 

Still deciding, but to nature succumb.

It will leave. It will fly away shortly. 

To say goodby to the fence, for a tree. 

lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

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