Perhaps it had started getting used to the luxuries of home. Perhaps it had become complacent and lost its abilities to live in nature.
Perhaps I was bothered by its harsh cries. Perhaps I was afraid of it being so close.
I started throwing grains at it, hoping it would fly away. Instead, it would reluctantly climb one step at a time on the stairs and ask, “Why?”
I kept throwing grains and splashing water. It kept asking me, "Why?"
Finally, it reached the threshold of a balcony door and stepped outside. I hurriedly closed the door, deciding I would continue to feed it every morning.
I just didn’t want it to be inside.