Slowly a hand Opens the door. The timid bird inside crawls out. Spreads it’s wings and stretches. Than soars high to the blue canvas, leaving the hues of green behind. Flaps it’s arms across the clouds. Tries to reach to the surface above. The soft blue than turns to midnight, it pauses and floats there for a while. Gracefully then it descends down. reaches it’s cage, it’s home for now. Slowly a hand closes the door.
“My little bird, what are you doing?” A sweet mother asks.
“Watching my little bird try to fly to it’s freedom.” A innocent daughter replies.