Mother bird builds her nest
Sticks, and twigs, and feathered crest
Camouflaged well, for the eggs she protects
All while prepared for whatever comes next

Hidden away high up in the trees
On a thick sturdy branch
surrounded by leaves
She tends to her eggs for whatever they need
And keeps them afar from any sly thieves
While singing love songs with the greatest of ease

Mother bird, she’s soft and clean
Vibrant, yet seldom seen
She clings to her tasks
But still has her dreams
Of all that’s real and make-believe

And if and when her tasks complete
She’ll revel in her ambiguity
Turning something ugly into beauty
And living each day wild and free