"Grey Steel" by Aris Balu

Broken wood repaired, the steel is untainted

Blaksmiths working day and night, the steel remains pure

There was a pigeon watching, amazed

How could that very matter, heavy and without grace is taming the wind?

The wood is broken again, too weak, too fragile to hold the weight of examination 

The pigeon shivering, its feathers shaken by a single revelation

It was not the wood or the grey steel, 

It was the human spirit against each complication