The bird said, "I ride the breath of dawn,

Skim the hush where clouds are drawn.

No fence can tame, no hand can own,

The wind is mine, the sky my home."

The cat replied, "I bask in beams of gold,

On cushions warm, through winters cold.

Fed with love, stroked into dreams,

Why chase the world when peace redeems?"

The bird sang back, "But peace is stale,

If not hard-won through storm and gale.

Each branch I land, a risk I take,

Each flight, a vow I never fake."

The cat purred low, "And yet you tire,

Your wings grow weak, your nests expire.

I nap through chaos, stretch through strife,

Comfort is its own wild life."

“But do you see the endless blue?”

*The bird then asked, “Do you pursue

The kind of stillness that arrives

Only mid-flight, when the soul revives?”

The cat sighed, with knowing grace,

“And yet, you pass no place.

I live, I linger, I leave a trace,

Freedom's not flight. It's c

hoosing your space.”

--_--