The misty gray kitten presses her small, soft paw onto the window glass.

Beyond is the impudent indigo bird that she knows is unattainable.

Mewing discontentedly, the creature surveys her small peephole into the world    

All she knows of outside is the plain white picket fence, and the pheasants that come to bask in the morning sun.

There are many things she will never know, and many things we won’t either.

We are that kitten, all of us look at life through a peephole, only glimpsing a small bit, knowing there is more.

We can try to break our window, or open the door, but we will always be ignorant.

This is the curse of intelligence, we know that there is always a bird beyond our window