The Bird Is An Artist
I feel the sun as it is; warm and bright
to touch my face and wake me from my dream
the light over the hill will bring a fight,
for life is not the gift it can so seem.
I stretch my wings, this day I write, I sing,
to fly is art and that is what it brings.
Not without a risk or fear of failing,
Walking closer to the edge unknown I
look over and see the ground below me,
jumping from my perch as straight as falling
fruit, I strive for greatness, not to get by
but excel, to feel as much as can be.
Copyright ©
Jake A. | Year Posted 2016
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