Baby Bird

Author's note: This poem was written sometime between 2017 and 2019.

Baby bird, none besides a ball of down,

I implore thee, O self to stay forever-

Not to fly yet, but youth ever be thy crown.

For when thou dost feather, ties do sever

To nest, to kin, to the one who feeds thee.

Then, such envied glories shall be never,

Till it is thee whom causes satisfaction to be,

For thine self at first, then one day your own

Will look to thee and say, “Give bread to me!”

Forever to be somewhere, at times alone

To guard thine own self from the hawk,

Lest your flesh be seed in his belly sown,

So lives one, who has wings at which to gawk,

For with freedom comes flying but also fleeing.

With freedom comes finding food held under lock.

Yet also with freedom cometh seeing,

Flying in the blue skies from the east and west,

Up, ‘till thine beak could kiss the world’s ceiling.

Yes, little bird tucked in the nest,

To be a bird now and later differ,

Though, I think thy stay where thou art now best.