Bird

Sometimes I envy birds

Of how they sail the sky,

Not bound by ordinary beliefs,

And with grace, they fly.

Oh, how ecstatic must it be,

To wander across the plane of reality,

To wander across freely,

And not be bound by gravity.

Oh, how joyous must it be,

To sail the air with glee,

With your fellow mates,

And your family.

And to perceive the world from another angle,

An angle never meant to be seen.

And to feel ecstasy more and higher than,

The cracks of the sun beneath the trees.

How wondrous must it be

To live in the sky with your family,

To live away from the people so bleak;

And see all that was hidden,

Up above,

Beneath your beak.