I did not save a life today, but I did the best I could

Winding along the country road.
Up a hill I walk, the weight on my back and bike to my side a non-hindrance to the beauty of the wooded land around me.

Just as I am about to hop back on the bike for a quick run down the other side of the hill, I notice out of my peripheral a struggle happening just on the other side of the road.
I drop my loads and approach the small male Robin, looking as if it is somehow tethered to the ground, in an eternal struggle to sit upright and fly away.

Ever so gently I gather it up into my arms, carefully checking for injuries. Nothing seems hurt or broken, but the robin, unusually content to be wrapped up in my hands, is twirrping in alarm, occasionally throwing it's head back and looking at me in distress.

I place it gently back onto a soft bed of dried leaves in the woods, hoping for some improvement from its previous state, and walk back to retrieve my things from the side of the road.

But I cannot go.
I hear the poor robin's shrill twirrping and its struggle to get up from where I left it.

It is calling out for help. It is scared about what is happening to it.
I approach it once again.

Convulsions from its small, light body prevents it from getting to its feet, and as it struggles against the seizer wrecking through its body it lunges forward and flips over onto its back, where it chirps and stares at me in distress. it would seem that it is unable to use its feet, but I bend down and reach out to it. With it's mouth stained red from whatever poison berry it had sampled earlier, the Robin grasps onto my finger as it lies there on its side and it seems as if even this small gesture helps to calm its nerves.
Afraid it's going to injure itself in its struggle, I pick it back up and hold it close, preventing the seizer from taking over, while trying to calm the little robin. Not really knowing what else I can do for it, I sit on a rock and just hold it, stroke its back, calm it down. It continues to chirp and twitter, and every once in a while it throws its head back and just stares into my eyes.

I do not know how long i have been sitting here trying to give what little comfort I can to the poor thing. 5 minutes. 10. Maybe more.
This robin is going to die in my arms, I realize, as I sit there on a rock in the woods on the side of a road.

I am dying, he tells me. Thank you for staying with me.

Then the seizers stop. He is calm. His head slowly drops into an eternal rest.
There is no reviving this tired bird's little heart.

I gently fold up its wings and, with its body still warm, lay it down on the earth beneath a large mother Oak deeper into the woods.
I walk back to the side of the road and continue on down the hill, along the long and winding country road, cool and peaceful this time of day.