To prove his argument,
Schopenhauer could have noted
how baby birds, though blind,
only minutes old and ignorant
as the twigs of their nest,
starting with the premise
of their mother’s vomit,
were already able
to reach the red conclusion
of their blood; how, chained to the black
idea of nothingness and boxed
in the logic of hunger,
they not only prevailed, but,
with the exigency of their crude
music, navigated the dark,
uncharted waters of their will:
until, that is, he saw their mother
dragging her wing in the dirt
to divert a predator,
risking her existence for her young.