So Free. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

The lonely bird flies northward as though she doesn’t care
Her outspread wings move lazily as she rides September’s air,
The dullest sky this autumn morn as the wind begins to rise
She plays her song through old oak leaves against the greyest skies.
Un-nerved by heavy rains that fall, un-moved by movement just below
No-one, no thing can read her mind as she observes life’s steady flow.
She bides her time for time is hers, it’s just another day
Then comes a breeze, she pushes off, she knows she cannot stay.
Her idle wings they seem so slow but then she starts to soar
She’s soaring into still grey skies, up, up, to Heaven’s door.