The Freedom Of Faith Poem by Michele C. Messina Long

From my terrace
I watch birds flying at pleasure,
Singing their songs of emancipation.

Looking to the ground
A squirrel works hard, laboring for its food,
Tormenting over tomorrow’s fate.

The squirrel so busy doing,
Its whole existence consisting of agonizing thoughts
Of a doomed tomorrow.

Never notices the bird’s patterns, different from its own,
Creating songs of delight for an audience of squirrels
Who will never fathom the deliverance of faith.