What I Did Not Know
I saw a pretty yellow bird today,
How it made me feel, I cannot say,
The wind was cold,
And the day was new,
Yet the flower knew what I did not;
That beauty doesn’t have to move,
It simply has a spot,
Where nothing can make it move,
Or shake, or tremble, in its infinite grace,
It doesn’t have to promote,
Or float or cast uneasy doubt,
That pretty yellow flower I saw today,
Knew what I did not,
I saw a man wounded in love today,
How he felt I could not say,
The wind was cold,
The day was old,
Yet this man knew what I did not;
That pain doesn’t have to be outward,
Make one a coward, or hold power,
Or simply be explained by a look,
That wounded man I saw today,
Knew what I for granted took,
I saw a flock of flying birds today,
What they flew for I did now know,
The wind was cold,
The day was dark,
Yet these flying birds knew what I did not;
That freedom is not for the sky,
Or the land, or the sweeping sea,
It is meant for you and me,
It is meant for all,
To travel and see the endless plains,
Of this free world and all its games,
That was enough for me,
Those flying birds I saw today,
Were beauty speaking to me,
In its simply, graceful, and peaceful way...
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