A bird

A bird in the dust ruffles its feathers happily.
For there’s nothing at that moment in time, that that bird would rather be doing.
  For its happy just to be flicking dust through its feathers.
And if left in peace it may even stay for quite some time.
    For this bird is so free in its ways.
And even as people walk by it, it does not care.
For it just keeps on with its fun in the dust.
  And it’s good to see something finding pleasure within something so simple.
When all around it has changed.
For that bird at that moment in time.
  Must have been as rich as the richest man.
Even though it had nothing more than dust.