Oh, the simplest pleasures I receive From watching those kamikaze orange-beaked Crows, Robins, perform their avian archery To pluck a worm, a divebomb from a tree The playful sword of gravity An aerodynamic calamity That gifted food from source of Aero Paired with purpose and clarity, a Pharaoh Their God, their King, chosen by their span of wing With patterns of dropdown eclipses The worm’s yet to know what is bound to begin