SoC 3:1

Seeing the Sky

He sits on his perch solemn.

His appearance is majestic for a small bird.

He eats when no one is watching.

If you stared for days he would starve.

Once in a while you may notice a blink.

But ne'er do the eyes focus.

The need for a cage has long passed.

His wings stretch no longer.

He does not test their power.

Serenity surrounds the seemly stoic bird.

His cheerful song fell silent.

A melodious cry would not improve his position.

In his mind he carves the clouds.

His heart feels his wings carrying him.

The sun is not a far enough destination.

He understands the concept of a boundless sky.

Inside he senses no limits to hold him.

The gaze with no discernable purpose is fixed on the heavens.

TOMORROW HE FLIES.