It was quiet, save one bird flying by.

Waves die. Pool of glass.

Dew settles cold on blades of grass.

She could not see why just one bird flew by

When back home every day

Flocks of demons, of problems

So much heartache came her way.

This one solitary bird made not a ripple

But it soared through the air.

Silence did not break. Leaves stayed where they were.

Sticks did not crack under foot. It all reminded her.

The bird. It knew where it flew.

High enough to not make waves.

High enough to see below.

High enough from any trouble.

High enough to learn where clear water flowed.

The bird reminded her that she could soar

High above the demons that roar.

She could view problems down below

She could see every valley, every mountain,

Forest, meadow and hill.

For the few moments she soars

Down below, life stands still.