A mokingjay, with a broken wing,
Wounded on the forest floor,
Surrounded by the fallen pine,
He let's out a whine,
So much left undone,
Mockingjay looks up with dying breath,
Spreads it's wings and attempts one last time to fly,
He can't,
He begins to cry,
Oh my, I try he says
As he continues to die,
A flightless bird.
An owl perched,
Spotting it's prey,
It's feathers fray,
She spot's the dying mockingjay,
She looks at the sky and begins to fly!
She stops.
She is too scared to go back down to the ground in fear she won't get back up,
Yet she sees herself in mockingjay,
She reaches down to cup him in her gentle talons,
She picks him up and she tries to take off but can't,
The mockingjay begs her to help him fly, so he can see the sky,
She contemplates leaving but she shan't,
She spreads her wings,
Those things,
Wide as she can and tries once more,
And guess what happens?
Mockingjay and owl soar.
