Poetry from Echezonachi Daniel


In the sun-lit beauty of the evening
I watch as a flock of birds travel across
And it hit my mind, like a sort of knowledge previously unknown
That birds do not fly just for pleasure. 

These birds may, like man, have hustled the whole day
In their own type of office and school
And are returning to rest their aching feathers.
They fly to get home, not for pleasure. 

Sometimes they fly to escape threatening danger
To save their lives and slip away from death
At this point they fly for safety
Not for pleasure. 

They fly to find sustenance for their little ones
Like man they too need something for their belly
So as I watch them now fly past
I know for certain that they do not fly for pleasure

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