Freedom's Gift

FREEDOM’S GIFT Frowning at my feeble reflection, In a stream by a nestling pheasant, Who mistakes my silence for kindness, My faults are amplified in it’s stare. Amused I watch the downy chick dare Close on me for further inspection. The innocence turns my mood pleasant, While I pity the inner blindness. It’s need for me sparks glaring wryness, Breaking a long cycle of despair, By making a living connection, And pulling me into the present. Maintaining my mind and home clement, Our loving hovel without fineness, The fledgling grows to need not my care, And seek less often my protection. When comes the morning of rejection, Stroking sleek feathers iridescent, I admit new freedom with dryness, And toss my pain into the sun’s glare.