Ballad of a Blue Jay

The Blue Jay sings, like it does every morning.

Its ballad being of service in a multitude of ways;

effortlessly gracing ignorant ears with tunes soaked in hope and a new morrow.

Its timbre forces somber's capitulation and fear's retreat back into the confound reaches of the mind.

Its melody pilfers malevolence's toll and plunges the day into a new one.

However, what seems to be so breathtaking and ironically scandalous about the blue jay's song is not what it accomplishes at all,

but instead that it simply sings no matter the circumstance.

No matter the weather.

No matter the amount of leaves left on its tree.

No matter if its wings are wilted

No matter if food is scarce

It sings.