Songbirds and Black Holes
Pray for wayward doves heading out west.
For the single parent trying to do what's best.
Did anyone ever pray for those
with yellow stars sewn to sunken chests.
Predators simply see goodness as softness.
Something to be prodded, poked and diddled with.
Nibbled away 'til it becomes a black hole of mayhem and mischief.
Gift the young a firm and gentle hand.
The wisdom of age, how to engage
and the guts to debride out the bad.
Teach them the value of things
how to earn respect void of demand.
Keep them tight to the caring wing
until they can discern nightmare from dream
or a greasy, red beaked buzzard
from a silver songbird stream.
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