A Baby in Distress, or my need to rescue and interrupt Nature’s plans

By Mike’s Birds — Baby Blue JayUploaded by Magnus Manske, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21096097

Flapping instincts call to try,
yet wings not formed, not ready to fly.
Blue Jay baby falls to the ground;
dazed, and squawking, Mama! sounds.

Tinker, my Terrier dancing around,
barking Hey Dad! Hey Dad! Look what I found!

I watch the helpless youngster,
futilely hopping, not flying from danger,
I’m at once parental and a stranger;
torn between the ways of nature and
my powerlessness to nurture.

Babies fall from the sky each day;
is there ever a way to save one’s future?
Or do we merely accept there’s no promise of survival?
In the universal balance, each life is trivial;
when a weak one falls, the effect is barely noticeable.

Occasionally appears a savior’s arrival,
with unknowable fate, a touch of grace,
the little one gets another chance
to pick itself up and try again, to journey on
wherever the universe holds its place;
or maybe to perish is the ultimate grace.

I cup the baby into my hands, it scrambles to resist
but somehow lands at that place of surrender
where despite all doubt, resignation takes hold
and it all works out.

I moved the baby to under the brush
and kept the dogs distracted and hushed.

That’s all I can do, it’s time to let go;
whether or not the baby thrives, I can know
the hand of GUS guided my own;
placing me in this present event
to witness the gift to learn again
that, right on schedule, life came or it went.

But after all, however it goes,
I still won’t know what Providence knows,
or what to expect,
or when it will show.

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