A Bird of all Feathers

I wonder if the bird knows it’s way,

Does he fly to get somewhere? 

Does he leave in a hurry?

I wonder if the bird focuses on the journey,

Or it’s end.

Perhaps he flies to fly,

Soars because he can.

Like an owl am I,

Lost in thought, often dreaming.

To ponder what is and what isn’t,

Whoo are you?

Whoo are we?

Whoo am I?

The night is quiet, yet we sit awake,

Like katydids under the moon.

One coastal bird over the sea.

A small speck discreet in its surroundings, 

But beautiful all the same.

Recognize the flock and still praise the one.

A silly thought perhaps,

Just drops in the ocean.

A brilliant jungle bird in screaming color,

Bold not in its shade of feather, but in the pride it bares. 

How daring to live such a way,

To jump without a fear of falling,

To sing without first observing.

Tis true we have but one life to live,

So I must urge you to leap wholeheartedly.

Your unashamedly you,

Unashamedly beautiful and free.

Imagine living in such a way,

A bold, brilliant you and me,

Like all the parrots that sing in the trees.

A small blue bird sits outside my window,

He sings himself all morning.

My mother loves the bluebird, her reasoning?

The occasional rusted feather peaking out,

The comical sight of one fluffed up in the cold,

The small frame and petite size similar to our own.

Oh, you cheerful bird, you make my day.

Just a reminder, you are, that there is beauty all around us. 

It is often the small things that in turn become the big things. 

In truth, my intentions were not carried out,

They left with the winter wind. 

The mention of birds was supposed to be short lived, 

one stanza to be exact. 

Though as I scratched, I found more and more similarities,

More traits did I share, more thoughts did I relate. 

Me a bird? Yes indeed. 

Not just any bird, no, but a bird of all types,

A bird of all feathers. 

I am a wren, a raven, a peacock of rich color. 

I sing with the cardinal, the mockingjay, the robin and the sparrow.

One with the hummingbird, rare like the palila, and free like the eagle.

I laugh with the kookaburra, and soar with the hawk.

A goose, a swan, a kiwi, a flamingo,

A night owl, an early bird, a song bird, never a caged bird. 

Like a bird am I.

Just not sure which bird am I.