There are many times a nightingale
Forgets that it is just a bird
Forgets that its purpose is to fly.

It remembers songs of early times
Songs of when it flew past the horizon
And beyond what limits were set by

Its physical entrapment. Purpose…
Its purpose is to fly. And fly, and fly.
Yet this nightingale knows places

Beyond air, beyond wind, and sees
Beyond the stars. This nightingale
Knows only the forbidden fruit of

Earth and sky. Let the pale blue become
A distant direction and the sight of
Foreign become this bright new land.

Hope. There is some left in this world.
Yet this nightingale only wants to fly.
Sets its sights on what’s possible today

While it sings you a song upon its perch
Make its voice colossal for all to hear
Then flies up and away to see the stars.

09/30/2009

Author's Note: Written for my daughter Diana.

Posted on 12/27/2009
Copyright © 2025 Michael Defries