A bird has wings, like a man has dreams. Confined to a cage, the bird has no need of them. Consumed with conformity, the man has no room for them. Both surviving, but neither of them thriving. Would their eyes take notice if a door were opened or are they too numb to see, blinded by their monotony? Grace sometimes is accidental, thrusting us forward into the land of fundamentals, giving cause to wonder potential and consider a plan increasingly questionable.