3rd September, 1999
O’ yes, I’m but a bird.
I like to soar high, and fly a little low –
I perch down on trees, and swoop on the ground below.
I’ve seen the world at large – men, who over petty things get charged;
I’ve seen them praying, – and I’ve seen them slaying.
I’ve seen flowers bloom – as also the o’erspread gloom.
I ponder. I wonder.
Was this the World that HE made?
Is this the Life for which we Prayed?
I’m but speechless, my thoughts don’t show,
I can’t raise my voice, nor raise a brow –
Yes, a bird I am. I know.
A bird as white as snow.