A bird tiptoed on the morning path,
unaware of my quiet audience.
He caught an earthworm mid-step,
broke it open like a promise.
Dewdrops cupped on blades of green,
quenching a thirst delicate as dawn.
A tilt of feathers, a sidestep pause,
and the beetle passed unbothered.
His eyes, quick as darting sparks,
tracked the world in hurried bursts.
Velvet crown twitching, a silent question,
was I predator, or poem in waiting?
I offered bread like an olive branch,
soft and patient as the sun rises.
With wings that whispered of oceans unseen,
he unfolded himself into the air,
rowing softly into invisible lanes,
his wake catchless as butterfly swims.
Watching him vanish, I thought, perhaps,
freedom holds no footprints, only flight.