To be as a nest, and egg, a fuzzy headed chick

This day, today of all days
finally
I rose with the sun and then
and then
I peeped out at the world.

There I saw love to be had,
and fresh water
and drops of dew,
and a butterfly to feed my soul.

Where in my little nest
is there room
for hatred, anger, and bitterness?
For conflict, for loathing?
What wee bird would open her gullet and receive such a poisonous morsel?

Not this one.

Nay, not this one.

This little bird cleans out her nest.
yea, she takes out the trash.
And when it is all clean, she stands on the edge,
opens her new little wings

And flies out into the world.