Birds can fly

Too low and too high

They’re given the chance to dance until they glance the trance of their desire

Not afraid to catch the eye with their silent calling of color

Birds can sing

Too loud and too soft

Their disquisition of daring dreams

Clear

Connected

Complete

I am given the same risk

To whisk away the wandering whimpers

But the world is not upon my shoulders

But rolling beneath my feet

I lack the luster to leap

Lamenting in the late light of morn

Wings are given

Woes forgotten

Only to wake the fog that hinders the heightened hallow

Peace 

A virtue of the unaccomplished