Men and Birds

Man saw the bird and envied it
and so made his own wings;
he flew like birds but when he did,
'twas not, like birds, to sing.

 

Instead, he beat the Earth with bombs
and screamed with missiles, loud;
ruins, he spread, and silent tombs
like vast and dusty shrouds.

 

But still the birds, to sing, return
after our bombings cease;
their songs, like souls within an urn,
turn silence into peace.

 

And they inspire us again.
Not as they did before
but to, with hope and love, ascend
above the wings of war.