One of my favorite aspects of fall is watching flocks of birds dance through the sky in synchronized motion.
So I offer this from the work of a grandson and former student, Aaron Hildebrand. You or someone you know could be like the bird in this poem. Let’s work to recognize the broken-winged among us and show grace.
Almost too easy to pass by,
Save for when it gives a cry,
Is the gentle presence of a bird.
Planted lightly in the ground,
It makes a faint yet shrill sound,
In hopes that it will be heard.
In the wind high above,
Sparrow, jay, quail, dove,
Soaring through the sky.
As if by chance or fate
This one bird must forever wait
Till eternity may pass by.
From the sadistic hand of nature
Has this poor bird been injured,
With wings so frail and delicate.
In vain attempt it tries to fly,
Not wanting to leave the sky
Now one bird more desolate.
To the surface it quickly returns,
So far away from what it yearns,
As close as it may seem.
Distant remain the fields of blue and white,
Henceforth destined to believe that flight
Was but a forgotten dream.