A momentous lesson

I wonder who I am to thank
For this gift of deemed normality,
I think of what forces were at play,
And what drove the hands that crafted me.

We barely know the plight of those
Whom nature has rendered incomplete.
We cant do better than to ponder why,
They tend to nod to a different beat.

No doubt they're gifted with a mind that dreams
Of high skies and of happy things
The wind that blows to goad it seems,
While they stay down chained by wooden wings.

Perhaps the early ones that were
They shunned the laws of holy creation.
Only to awaken the great maker's ire -
Souls thus forged from an angry fire.

Perhaps they stay on, in deep despair
As a cruel token of our misdeeds.
To remind us to be grateful and fair,
To be hubmle at heart, to live and let be.