Blue Bird Flies

High in the spring tree,
Above the busy bees,
Past the Lilies unseen,
Lies a nesting bird to be,
Sleeping in his home of Evergreen
He wakes to the world’s breeze

Blue bird born to fly
Born with a plethora of potentiality
Blue bird stands spry
Bewildered by his limited reality

For his potential must be given up
For the sake of action
For the sake of finding self’s stuff
- He must
Decide between seeing pretty lilies or the busy bees
Decide between singing or building
Decide between the places where he may fly
- The Blue bird’s choices are his own stride,
He seeks thyself in the world’s ride
He himself, His choices his, Blue bird jumps off his nesting
He sings in the wind’s breeze, “To be free!”

Wherever he goes, Whatever he does
Choose, Choose he must
Before the day’s great end
Else risk a day wasted
Idle more and a week gone
Then a month gone, then a year gone
Then a life of none!

The Blue Bird’s time is not forever
If his time is not made his
Then that potential missed
Haunts him with the words “Flew? He never!”

Yet, When faced with endless possibilities
Faced with beauty’s incomprehensibility
Blue bird will, still, sings
Even if no one hears him