Birds


Birds,
they come in various flocks
to sing
triumphant journeys
over me

while I stay still
imagining them
the heralds of movement
of my soul

What
journeys do you speak
oh quiet one
who sings your song at night
that watchful, weary eyes
can’t see?

Who whispers stories
just out of reach
like feathers of birds
or angel’s wings

that disappear
upon human touch
when the dark of daylight
shadows me?

Yearning
without reason or cause
but Remembrance

that I know
from somewhere beyond
the conscious state

Like an instinct
to fly up,
up through the skies
like a bird

Because I hear you
calling me
saying come fly
come dance
nay
 come soar with me

For if not
for short statured
perspective
see
my little soul

That
you are bigger than
the world

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