The flash of creativity

A flash of wing,
what is that song,
unheard of in the air?
A chirping cry, and I look up
to see three tiny beaks,
open and crying
with anticipation:
feed me!
Feed me!
Feed my soul!
Wings stir the air;
something has gone in search of food
and will return
with nuggets of wonder
as a mother cares for her children;
heart leaps with smiles of expectation.


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