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If I Could Fly

Updated: Mar 29

If I could fly among the clouds, with my own two wings,

I'd perch atop a tree and hark the beauty that nature sings.

Flying ways away from the hustle-bustle of the concrete jungle,

I'd learn from the trees and tide, while it all turns to rubble.

Seeking out a serene spot to start my nest,

For my feathered family, I'd want the best.

Weaving straw and grass, building a place to flourish,

For our chicks that we can't wait to nourish.

From fluff to feathers, finding food and taking flight,

Seldom returning to the nest, we'd hope they're raised right.

Cruising over creeks and cattails, they come across concrete.

This culture strikes a hunger for something they can not eat.

Enveloped in a world, always so exciting and new,

A forgotten feeling of freedom begins to fester and brew.

Thinking back to a time among the trees and tide,

Before wings were clipped, now there's no place to hide.

Where creeks and cattails thrived, now stand cages.

Futile feathers flap for measly wages.

Carried by the wind, there reeks a stench of tide so low.

A distant oasis pleads and promises a place to grow.

At the bars and lock, we pick and prod to break.

Finally, free and flapping, with others in our wake.

On the horizon, making worth our cuts and dings,

There grows a tree, of hope, where nature sings.

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