Kevin M. Hibshman writes

a bird in the hand

it had flown
known heaven as the open sky
hell was the ground below frozen in the bitterness of a barren winter 
the earth now so hard and unyielding it had to fly on faith alone

it had circled and soared but those days were over
it had out flown death but death was so patient
it finally crashed down and found a place to die
the idea of flight still in its eye

-- Mark Catesby