A bird flew down from the tree and rested on the fence.
Now she is watchig the sky... through her little, round eyes, the clouds are falling from the Heaven. They are burning under the sun`s infernal fire. Envelopt in sparckling shadows of violet, gold, and red, the sky looks like a haze of eternity, of answers... and she, it, the bird, knows that behind the colors are burning the stars. Sometimes,she dreams that in her flew, she will raise and then rest on a cloud looking forever at the world of forevers that sorounds us every night. Waking up from hers little comun dream, she is catching a world view, an earthly one! Then she sees him: the human -- she sees the mizerable part of him. Sudently the pale Moon appears, the sick light and the darkness are floating in the air. This kind of beeing comes like a Dementor, like the chain of pain. It makes the world spin faster, the winter more frozen, the rain falling dirty and he... he is the king of her home, of her tree, of her sun and he gets further than the clouds, maybe he can touch the stars! She is frighten by the posibility of stealling the stras, of snatching them from the sky like he does winth the flowers from her field.
Suposing the human rase decreased to a grain of dew, and the time relation to a drop, their centuryes of history, of wars, of descuvres, the all human world, would become just a moment. She can turn this moment in
to a tear and drinking it she can quench her thurst or maybe she can get drowned in to the cry of the nation.
But maybe she can't see the human... maybe she is colorblind! She opens her eyes singing: pull me out from inside, I am ready, I am fine; take the shadows from my eyes,let me hope for human raise. The moon is falling through the sky, the stars are not shineing anymore, again, like every day, the Sun has won the battle. The little green bird, with round eyes, flew up from the fence to the tree.
She doesn't understant... does she?