A Little Bird
A little bird once flew my way
With colors, vibrant and sweet.
I held the bird within my hands,
I thought this was a treat.
Truth be told, t’was not for me,
To hold this bird and keep;
Its little wings were meant to fly,
Its little beak, to peep.
I let it go and watched it fly,
Though deep within my heart,
I couldn’t bear to let it go,
Of my world, it was a part.
I still felt presence now and then
As if it were above my head,
Watching me and speaking, yet
With words, not ever said.
I know, in my heart, I acted selfish
For I could never share with it, my life.
But, to have held that bird for that moment
made me happy, with sheer delight.
I know, if I should see that bird,
Or ever again hear its playful song,
My hands I’ll keep just by my side
And pray that I’ll be strong.
For I never want to hurt it,
As I may have, selfishly at the start.
But, I hope the bird knows for now,
With it, it has my heart.
I let it fly, not really my choice,
But it was the right thing to do.
Now, I only wish it happiness
And to soar in the heavens, too.
Maybe one day, I will look up
To see my flying, little bird.
Here, grounded, I’ll wish it well
And send my love without a word.
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