I held finches in my hand,weightless
       twig of leg between thumb and forefinger
      almost to fine fro banding.
      I fellt the peck of a pea-sized heart against my palm.
      shudder of struggle,then stillness
     hesitation at release then whipping of wings
    fury to escape from perch to wire
   puff of breath,rapid pumping of a scant teaspooon of blood.
  Consuming energy in a vessel without substance
   Lily,little bird,
   brilliant fire burns between her white temples
  A heart too huge to bind.
  flutters in the narrow cage of her ribs.
the wings of her shoulders and delicate wrist
encircled by the band of my fingers
fly relentlessly from task to task.
Magnitude of life and purpose in a tiny frame.
God has chosen the weak things to confound the mighty.
                                                                                      LewEllyn
 
This is her first of published poetry.
The prize-winning poem:
This was published in the fall Southern California Review.
Cannot help it and thought that this was wonderful.
Hope that you get some feeling out of this.