NO, NOT PALOMA BLANCA

I heard a flutter,
And there it was
On my window sill.
It looked small and frail
But with restless energy
And eyes alert and moving
Smelling danger and
Chance to peck.
What lovely combination
Of colours and shades, I thought
And freedom to move
With abandon.
You can keep people out
And even dogs and cats
But you can't
Keep birds like that out.

I wanted to hold it,
Caress and
Feel the warmth of its belly
And be protective.
But, as I extended
My hand to do so
It flew and
Landed on the other window
I quickly moved there
And it flew
To the tree
And stared at me
Out of reach.
I envied the freedom it had
To fly the skies
And reach places I can't.

I can't, and it can
I was jealous of its colours,
Flight, independence
Anywhere, anytime
Even on the water
Over electric cables
Roof tops and ledges.
I, wanted nothing
But to be like it...
"Just a bird in the sky".
"Rather be a sparrow than a snail."
And then..... a gunshot
A violent and helpless flutter
And it fell like a ripe fruit from the tree.
Bruised and bleeding.
My fancy fluttered and died.

Why would anyone
Shoot down a bird
That brings as much joy
As a butterfly fleeting amongst flowers?
Will we ever
Make Darwinian Theory
Stand on its head?
Don't caresses and whispers
Stand a chance
Against shouts and screams
And barks and roars?
Is Life an unequal race?
Can Beauty protect itself?
Does anyone know?
A Bird is what we want to be;
But, a bird is what we shoot...
Because....we can.

The radio played:
"I am a Paloma Blanca
I am just a bird in the sky
No one can take
My freedom away"
We pretend
But, we detest freedom
Of birds, animals, people
No one can fly
No one can soar
We have enough means
To shoot, kill, bring down
"Get in line,
Do this, do that
Follow...
Or else."