The Mocking Bird

by mzanemcclellan

I sat in my yard
and looked in the eye,
a smug Mockingbird
just dropped from the sky.

It spread its wings,
both wide and proud,
then asked my name,
I swear, aloud.

I began to reply,
to avoid seeming obtuse,
but could not to this bird
myself introduce.

“What good is there
in a name,” said I?
“What good indeed,”
the bird replied.

“If a bus called a plane
could it suddenly fly”?
“Just what is your point”?
its expression wry.

“That it matters not
what, or if, I am called,
when all I can manage
is to repeatedly fall”.

“Each day I risk,
as I take to the air,
a mistake that is fatal
but I do not despair.

For, given wings
I am surely meant to fly.
With your obvious gifts
why do you ask why”?

I looked at the bird
with enmity and scorn,
and once again wished
I had never been born.

“There is but one reason,
and make no mistake,
you sit here this moment
seemingly without a break.

You look not within
for the answer you seek”,
it opened, as if laughing,
its most noble beak.

“I only wish that
my mind was brilliant”.
“My friend be content
that it is … resilient”.

M. Zane McClellan
Copyright © 2014
All rights reserved

9 Comments to “The Mocking Bird”

  1. Excellent! So lively and charming and delightful. It, this could definitely be found in an illustrated, children’s book. 😉

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