You are meant to fly,
to light on branches
of lush trees, to fill the
air with your song.
If I caught you in my hand
your tiny wings would beat in time
pressing for freedom against closed fingers.
Your soul is meant for flight but it is a cruel
place you have come
filled with creatures bigger than you.
Worst of all is man who glorifies death.
In the forest his cries of joy
ring out at the slaughter of a deer.
The world needs your song and
the beat of your heart.
We must open our hand.
art borrowed from Pinterest