Birds are the underrated creatures of the world.
They gleefully perform the fireworks of the daylight sky.
Soaring across the crystal sun, their wings glow vividly vibrant golds.
They glide over the clouds in a synchronized formation, inhaling whiffs of serenity and fresh air.
Their wings flap to the pulse of the diamond in the sky as they delightedly gleam in the light of the newborn ceiling.
But as the dark draws near and the moon prevails, the birds succumb and acknowledge the cease of their freedom.
The eerie moon protrudes and the stars are unveiled.
The birds return to man's ground and wish on the smaller emeralds that they will fly once more.
They comprehend, for once you begin your flight, it always must end, and on ground it does.
For, all us upon Earth, not just earth, are locked in an aviary, the night sky a closed ceiling.
The sun's sky, an opening, the motivation for birds to fly.
Still, night creeps on them and locks the ceiling again, and though closer than before, the birds must return to ground.
Perpetually birds try to fly to a height they cannot reach.
Is that really your definition of freedom?
YOU ARE READING
Earth Is An Aviary
PoetryPeople always assume that birds are free because they can fly. However, we're all birds - trapped birds locked in an aviary. Only a few of us have ever escaped the aviary, but eventually they all came back because we're destined to be in the aviary...
