Knowledge

A hooded bird
sat on a fence,
looking about
for single pence.

No worms or food
were found below.
So there it sat
in youths callow.

Pondering
which way to fly,
far to a tree
or in the sky?

From high above
it did permit,
to clearly see
beneath it.

This bird soon found
a thing profound,
it was the hood
that was deadwood.

From off its head
as weighted lead,
the hood feel down
upon the ground.

It did return
to that lone fence,
a wiser bird,
all now made sense.

Copyright © 2009 Ronald J. Edwards