The bird how it sits so softly on branch,

Lost in it’s quiet and solemn trance.

If only I could be as it be.

If only that were me.

The bird how it flies so lightly on air,

Soaring and gliding on the winds so fair.

If only I could be as it be.

If only that bird were me.

The bird how it travels so far and wide,

Like the flow of the earth and turn of the tide.

If only I could be as it be.

If only that little bird were me.

K. Aldaya, 9/23/2003

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://weheartit.com/entry/group/1672157