I saw a bird today

Trying to fight gravity

To make it up a few feet

To rest...

And I thought to myself:

How do they measure

The distances they fly?

Not by feet or miles,

Those are things of Man,

But how?

What do they say to themselves

On those long journeys?

"Just a little while longer"?

"We're almost there"?...

How?

We spend so much time

And effort

Trying to create so much space

From point A to B

In such little time,

Do we ever stop to rest?

Do we ever look and see?

That possibly all we're doing

Is a waste of time

Because sooner or later

Our time runs out

And we have no idea where we're going after?

Yes, some people create moments,

Splashes of time,

That pervade the mind

And we all remember them for it...

But the rest of us?

What are we leaving behind

For the world to find

Other than “They were here

At some point,

But they didn’t do anything

Worthwhile…”?

How many of us will be remembered?

In a 100 years, we’ll be nothing

But a number…

A census.

We will be grouped with the thousands

Of others who didn’t have the courage

To fight gravity…

Those who didn’t have a voice,

Or if they did, didn’t use it,

And we will be bodies

In the ground

And people will say

“Rest in Peace”…

But where is the peace?

Where do we go after this life?

We’re caught up in the Technology

That allows each moment to become

Permanent…

That whatever we say

Or do

Is there for the world to see…

And what’s the point of that?

Who cares what kind of shoes,

Pants,

Dress,

Underwear you wore today…

I don’t want to know…

I don’t want to see it…

Now guaranteed no one will care

What I think.

They’ll see this little bit,

Read just for the hell of it,

And move on after the first few words or so…

Who cares about a bird?

… We only see what we think is important…

We only care about what’s relevant to us…

“So what?” They’ll say…

I’ll post this on Facebook,

And everyone will overlook it,

Because they’re too busy,

To stop and rest,

And wonder

About a simple thing as a birds flight

When they could see

Girls fight,

Send tweets,

And retweet,

And poke,

And prod at each other

Behind a mask filled with little lights

That gives you a bigger picture…

To be one of those lights…

Yes, the world is cruel,

And I’ll be glad to leave,

One day,

After I know I’ve left something

Meaningful.

Not for the fame of it,

But for people to think,

To ponder the question:

“Why do birds fly, when they can walk?”

Because the view is worth the effort…