What does a bird know?
Does it know the little waft of joy it carries
Unsecured on its back
And how easily it washes into this opportune puddle?
And what does the bird know of the watcher
And what the watcher carries
And how swiftly that burden too dissolves
In this joy-stained muddied water?
A bird knows only Life
And lets the living come naturally
And from such easy grasp
Life’s gifts fall