I spoke with a little bird today who told me his tale of woe,

And the branch he perched himself upon in response rocked to and fro.

The sky that towered above us paled an ashen shade of grey,

Exhausted from inhaling the fumes of yet another day.

 

Now this little birdie asked me to sit with him awhile,

And chirped a tune so sorrowful I lost my human smile.

He was relieved though to find me in this meditative state,

Because here I felt his consciousness and in this now he could relate.

 

He bowed his head in sorrow almost tumbled off the branch,

Weakly regained composure and spoke as if in a trance.

Today could be my last death’s door is very near,

But please do not mourn for me because death I do not fear.

I am sad for those I leave behind; family and cherished friends,

For, far greater is the burden when life ends before it really begins.

 

My fears are now for Mother Earth whose tormented rivers flow,

Destroying life, she once sustained and polluting all that grows.

My birdie tears have long since dried for I can nourish her no more,

My strength is moving past me as I head towards heaven’s door.

I speak now on her behalf of this human contraction,

In the hopes that you can write a poem and display it as non-fiction.