The thing with feathers

It never asks for protection,

But it protects so many.

Is it that we aren't grateful,

Or is it that it doesn't need what we do.

Something small that can be easily picked on by prey

Is more protected then those of us at the top of the food chain.

Fear maybe?

Proud maybe,

That something so little can feel us up with so much.

In some ways it can blind us.

Maybe we need to be struck down by a storm,

For it can leave us ignorant.

We see beautiful.

The world sees bad.

Break the glass and open your eyes.

For hope to be real,

We need to continue on in this dark sky called life,

And not be fooled and stopped when day comes.