Day 23 - Protection

I sit at meadow's edge,
looking out across the green,
unseen by all the creatures passing by.

Except for just one cat,
staring, sharply, right at me,
who sees my wing is broken
and who knows I cannot fly.
I know that if I move,
he'll be on me in a pounce
and so will end my life under the sky.

And while  I sit and wait,
though my heart bangs at its cage.
I'm satisfied with how I've lived,
I'd do it all the same.
Yes. Even to the part,
which has bought me to this turn.
The final drastic act which left me lame.

We'd flown for seven days,
flocking twenty thousand strong,
from the lake we called our home
to these green and rolling hills.
And on the way we dived
to the water catching fish.
And brought them up to crunch them with our bills.

My first migration flight
showed me this planet's shape.
And I drunk in the adventure
with each beat of my wings.
And when we had arrived,
exhausted but still breathing,
I saw the bird of which my heart now sings.

But there was danger high,
in a falcons fatal form.
I saw it dive towards my bird
and had to intervene.
I spun out of control
but before I fell I saw,
my sweetbird had escaped that peregrine.

So now with broken wing,
you may well think me foolish.
That I would give my life up
for somone I hardly know.
But care a jot? Not I.
I'm happy with my lot.
I'm ready cat, so make the final blow.

I see it prime its legs.
But before it makes the leap.
The bird I saved comes rescue bound
appearing from a tree.
It pecks upon its face,
and the cat soon runs away.
And now this sweet bird turns around
and hops over to me.