Let them be as ants
restrained to the enclosed darkness of the Earth’s crust.
I would rather be an eagle,
soaring through the sky, elegant and peaceful
looking down upon the world,
looking down on ants.
I would rather be wingless,
restrained to the Earth’s cold crust,
than to be trapped underneath,
crowed with thousands of other ants,
scrambling and fighting for the last scraps of food.
To have wings,
to have flapped them and risen off the ground,
to fly, to glide through the sky
with clouds above, and below.
To feel the cool breeze run through my feathers,
I feel as I am the only bird in the world.
I would rather see the light,
see the world.
See the world from 10,000 feet high,
I would rather fly.