as the first slivers of dawn slip through the crack in our window, a bird begins to sing. lonesome yet proud he persistently reaches out for an answer. any answer to satisfy his naturalistic hunger for affection. throughout the long, cold night he pondered. he pondered of the future, and all her mystery. dawn acted as the catalyst for his song with the burning sun relating to his impulsive nature. this bird called out not only for himself but for his race. he called out not necessarily for an answer but simply for the sake of song, for without song he, like us all, would be lost in a sea of darkness unable to perceive the light. i ask you, what is your light and where can you escape your darkness?