The urban bird

The birds tweeting over the echo of the jets in the sky

The distant siren, the motorway jargon

The distant skyline which soon will disappear

But when your in the building its just that dying need to live

The dying need to breath and run and set free like that tweeting bird in the sky

But you are caught up with jets and crystal elevators and lunchtime meetings

Eventually those sirens are ringing for you

And when they do, what are you thinking of

The bank account with 0s or the freedom and beauty of existing

Dying to set free is a form of dying, happens slowly but happens surely

Happens in your daydream and in your struggle to wake up in the morning

Happens between the tears of loneliness and the tickle of temptation

Happens between the Microsoft teams shrill and your loo breaks

Moderna, Pfizer and Sputnik a distant symbol of hope

When things go back to normal stop and think

Does this life serve me

Or I living my life on autopilot

Getting up to responsibility and endless stresses

Or waking up to welcome and seize a new day?

One day we will be on that bed

Our soul flying up to the sky

But me? I already want to be flying way before that

My soul running free in the ocean energy of my morning swim

My heart full from the lives I’ve touched

My brain stimulated by the assumptions I've challenged

My legs tired from the nature adventures Ive had

Rip away those chains of the city rat race

Let your soul Fly before you Die