I move slowly through the thicket, careful and straight –
they’re cautious of the wicked, not of color, but shape.

We’ve trampled through the forest,
slashing everything in sight – all that live fear 

our hunger for delight. I’m here among them 
for their beautiful,
feathers in light, but many 
before me endanger their life.

I’m low to the ground now, I see you ahead. 

How mighty your eyes are, how easily I’m read. 

Any sudden move, to the clouds you will go,
my shape Careless and Wasteful you know.

Respectful and quiet I stare at you still, 

grateful your wisdom trust no man on this hill.
Not moved by the Blackness that covers my build–

It’s only my “humanity” that sends fear down your 
quills.

Among the Birds, I am Human. In this, I delight, 

here as a stranger in wonder of flight.