With a bird’s eye view I’d pity all the poor wingless creatures playing out their lives down on the ground
As I flew free and high over trees, hills and valleys, sprawling patchwork fields and busy towns
I’d stretch my wings on summer thermals, soaring over vast expanses of harvested golden wheat below
Ascending up and up more, to the billowing cloud base, way above the tiny tractors, combine, and silly squabbling crows
I’d land to gruesome sights of worms pulled and stretched, and impaling and cracking some hapless snails open
But knowing it’s just natures fate, the circle of life, and the way it’s always been for the timeless wheel of survival unspoken
One evening as the blue-to-purple hues gently fall, I’d sit quizzically on the old lichen-covered farmer\'s gate
And sing the sweetest song I’ve somehow always known, through the calming romantic hush of dusk to find a mate
And one spring morn on the swaying nest, we\'d look with pride at our clutch of blue speckled eggs laid high in our oak
And spy the cold front of fast changing skies, grey bellied clouds, bracing for a night when squally winds would blow and the rain would soak
On a busy afternoon with wiggling bright-green caterpillars stuffed in my beak, I\'d flit the endless to and fro to our brood
With chirping, pushing and impatient mouths all wide open, I\'d be the responsible lifeline, the tireless relentless provider of food
One morning our brood would shakily take first flight , with me nervously watching them flap and plunge to the neatly cut lawn
Judging the fat lazy cat was still tucked up, sleeping in the house, we’d keep the noise down in the breaking skies of the early dawn
Blinding flashes of lightening would stun the sultry humid summer nights, with crashing raging thunder and threatening menacing skies
Our family would lurch in the fierce gusty gales, rain and hurting hail, buffeting our senses and filling wonder in our fearful eyes
Peering over the glistening misty pillow of early autumn, to graceful deer bravely emerging from the bracken shadows, alert but calm
Hearing the cows\' low mooing and chewing, making their slow laden way through dew-soaked grass, to the milking shed down at the farm
Beholding the spider\'s sparkling display of bejewelled webs as the sun peaks it’s head over the golden-leaved hilltops
Feasting with speckled woods on the sticky blackberry harvest. Clusters of juicy, inky delight and savouring every drop
On a winter\'s night I\'d watch the eternal, jewelled constellation of Orion steadily turn in the frosty soot-black sky through branches overhead
Then pushing my way deep into a safe hawthorn bush, with low chirps to neighbours, I\'d know it’s now time to go to my bed
On that final last cold night, I\'d look back on everything I\'d ever done, and everything I knew
All the adventures, visions, colours, beauty and lessons of my life. And feel so lucky that I\'d been gifted the perspective of a bird’s eye view