A feathered epiphany

A Poem by Maxwell Ryder

Nature/philosophy Written April 21, 2016

This spring I walked by
A feathered epiphany
singing in the trees,
Emptying his song on
The madding throng,
Scurrying along city
Arteries to get to
Their Wall Streets,
Not stopping to hear
The thrill in his trilling,
The candidness
Of his heaving breast,
Or the oracle
Of his frenzied melodies,
Which queried my ear,
And seized every
sinew in my chest;
If the sun and the leaves
Are good enough for him,
Why aren't they for me?
Why is man the only creature
In need of money,
Not simply happy to be?