Doubt queries her,

hawk eyeing its prey.

Is this good enough?

Unique enough?

Lovely, worth noticing?

Her very life a question,

wingless bird in her hands.

And yet majesty of truth,

strength in being small,

are Poor in Spirit

turned right there

on its head.

Pivot! Breathe!

Open your fists!

And the bird,

its wings solid and

strong, turns its face

to the sun and flies.

—jennifer j. camp