The Jovial Bird
Our jovial faces smile from a bridge
That crosses a canyon near the top of the ridge.
It’s a passage about which we had been told
By friends who went searching for wisdom and gold,
But they met a giant who got in their way
And said that there’d be a price to pay.
A half ran off, and forgot their intent.
Three fell off the trail in an accident.
There were only two who came back on the trail
And besought our help when they told their tale.
We set off to help those caught in a bind,
Knowing that we only had limited time,
And being aware: We might fall into danger
Or be visited on by an unfriendly stranger.
Yet also, what beauty! What specters of hope!
We carried machetes and a large roll of rope.
At the end of the bridge was a road to the sky,
And another that passed by the giant’s castle.
To have the best view, we would need to get high.
Plus, we didn’t want to run into a hassle!
Then the clouds rolled in like a blanket of fog.
A storm was brewing, and the wind grew chill.
To warm ourselves up, we began to jog
To the nest of a bird with a golden bill.
It was a monstrous bird with massive wings:
So large that two of us mounted its back.
The rest sat in its nest and began to sing,
Beneath a tarp in one of our packs.
The bird became a very good friend,
Though two of my buddies he had for a meal.
Still, the others found safety, and in the end,
He fetched the lost ones and helped them to heal.
So I was sad for the two, but I could see he was kind,
And flying on its back fairly blew my mind.
So far I could travel, and so much to see!
Never in my life have I felt so free!
Still, the rest of my buddies said they had to return.
Some had jobs, or they had family concerns.
We walked back to the bridge, and the clouds all cleared.
Then the road to the sky simply disappeared!
I walked back to town, and I’m not sure why.
I guess I just needed to say goodbye
And now, in spite of my family’s wrath
I head back to the bridge, in search of the path.
Our jovial faces smile from a bridge
That crosses a canyon near the top of the ridge.
It’s a passage about which we had been told
By friends who went searching for wisdom and gold,
But they met a giant who got in their way
And said that there’d be a price to pay.
A half ran off, and forgot their intent.
Three fell off the trail in an accident.
There were only two who came back on the trail
And besought our help when they told their tale.
We set off to help those caught in a bind,
Knowing that we only had limited time,
And being aware: We might fall into danger
Or be visited on by an unfriendly stranger.
Yet also, what beauty! What specters of hope!
We carried machetes and a large roll of rope.
At the end of the bridge was a road to the sky,
And another that passed by the giant’s castle.
To have the best view, we would need to get high.
Plus, we didn’t want to run into a hassle!
Then the clouds rolled in like a blanket of fog.
A storm was brewing, and the wind grew chill.
To warm ourselves up, we began to jog
To the nest of a bird with a golden bill.
It was a monstrous bird with massive wings:
So large that two of us mounted its back.
The rest sat in its nest and began to sing,
Beneath a tarp in one of our packs.
The bird became a very good friend,
Though two of my buddies he had for a meal.
Still, the others found safety, and in the end,
He fetched the lost ones and helped them to heal.
So I was sad for the two, but I could see he was kind,
And flying on its back fairly blew my mind.
So far I could travel, and so much to see!
Never in my life have I felt so free!
Still, the rest of my buddies said they had to return.
Some had jobs, or they had family concerns.
We walked back to the bridge, and the clouds all cleared.
Then the road to the sky simply disappeared!
I walked back to town, and I’m not sure why.
I guess I just needed to say goodbye
And now, in spite of my family’s wrath
I head back to the bridge, in search of the path.
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