Orioles, blue jays, cardinals
Soaring in their hearts to their rightful place
In the skies over their dream-homes
Hoping perhaps against hope that they will achieve
What others seek to gain
Floating in enchantment and landing on the fenced-in pasture
Seeking safety but aware that this may not last
Their natural enemies ready to attack with sticks and stone
But for today these birds of play gaze and graze upon the fields
Of their fantasy and muse on heaven where no scarecrow enemy
Will interfere or try to ground their wings of victory.
These are of the flock that seeks tomorrow’s promises
And there is no cage or foe that can challenge their rite
Of victory at least until the full migration of their dreams
Has reached its autumn culmination.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME