little lion dove

flittering of wings

gently settling down

in high branches

and is not seen

 

she fights to live

but is pushed aside

by every filthy crow.

 

she hunts for food

she fights to have home

and struggles to soar

 

she prefers to walk.

 

the light shade of caramel

blends into dead grass

and no one knows

her

 

     or her strength

 

this is a poem

to the quiet

and steady

 

those who are plain

and unnoticed

 

your secret strength

is unfathomable

and though you triumph

over trials and wars

from internal to external

 

you need no recognition

 

the song of the lion dove

is soft, sad, and sweet

she does not wait

but she is yet

to be discovered.