Gentle the Sun

The sun was gentle today
The heat was comfortable
Clouds they soared slowly
Carefree and quietly

My friends seemed joyful
And playful bringing their friends
The feed I placed on their perches
Were consumed hardily

One whose wing had been injured
hobbled on the ground to the seed
Dispersed from the enthusiasts above
Eating without attention
of its injury from the others
I wish I could fix its wing

I can only observe knowing I cannot fix everything
My sorrow and anguish is acceptable
because there’s pain and suffering all around
but it must not come from angst
Because I can’t correct and fix ‘it’.

The warmth of It’s golden face now
disappearing upon the horizon bed
As gently and quietly as it played
Throughout the day it now gives way
with glowing inspiration that it’s time to rest
They, my friends, also cast their winged silhouettes
onto the canvas of a diminishing orange glow
Except for one, away, away they fly
for tomorrow is another day