Bird Watching

The bird meant not to fly, spiraled down.
Danced across the warm blue sky.
A romantic waltz of three four,
a scene from a dream, nothing more.
And when the bird and mother earth met,
it was absorbed into her pores.
A wonderful day one could not forget.

Snow is colder with open eyes.

The bird meant not to fly,
violently plummeted down,
cutting open the fading orange sky.
A communal heartbreak,
as the stranger stars witness the falling life.
A victim of gravity, piercing the earth.
A torrential blush of crimson and accepting rebirth,
the bird meant not to fly:
taken by the cold dark soil of mother earth.

The bird meant to fly
finally appreciated the light, as it
never knew that its parallel in life,
was ready to die.