Freedom of the bird

a short story that i created really quick on the road, while traveling

Freedom of the bird

Everyone looks at this word differently.
Everyone and everything has meaning for this word.

Feathers ruffle around as the birds wings flap mindlessly through the open air. Seeing the whole world underneath them as they whip through the air. Soaring where ever they want.

Rolling thunder storms paint the skies black and grey making it go under a spell of entrapment of gloom.

 Little pellets of water rush from the monstrous black demon that lays above the tiny brown bird. It's wings flaps up and down rapidly trying to break the force of the demons pellets. In defeat the powerless brown bird  spirals down to the earth falling down like it's neighbor of clear tear diamonds crashing down.

Hazel eyes roll around to see the black skies gone and been replace with the aqua blue clear skies. Struggling to move, winces of pain shoot rapidly through out the frail body.

The wounded brown bird raises it head to the sky again, and squints it eyes and looks to the sky where it just fallen. Freedom is just a grasp away but is blinded with shadows with broken cracks of light.

The sky mocking the little bird as it chirps for help where the death bed of concrete holds it captive. Crying out for pain, not knowing what the world is going to bring it next.

As it lays on a cold, damp ground wanting to close it's eyes forever and let mother-nature give pity on the wounded creature with eternal sleep and bliss.

With a pinch of light hitting it gently on the bird, a shadow figure scoops up the frighten creature with such grace, letting the slow breeze tussle the feathers.

Pain, comes back.
But a journey awaits.
Come now, the word freedom is just a word the flows swiftly through the air being so care free.

But the freedom is used in many ways, but those who work for the understanding of it, know the true journey,

As the young brown bird soars mighty and high. Freedom glides side by side with the gracious bird through the rushing air as it swoops through the clouds to see the world above and below.

Freedom is all around
But those who look
Will always seek what they find.

Author's Note

this was a quick story