i once found a bird lying on the ground. it would not ever fly again. i held the bird up in my hands
i shed my tears over the lovely song that not longer could be heard. never learn to fly. with dirty hands i dug a hole and gently laid the bird to rest in soil: a wound in the tear stained mud. my tears wore rain as i revealed the secrets of a tree. a cross of bark to speak through wooden grains: never learn to fly"