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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Inspirational
- Subject: Art / Music / Theater / Dance
- Published: 01/18/2014
Bird
Born 1963, F, from Loule, PortugalBird
In the midst of life on earth you display illuminated status. Some observe in awe while others never wrap mind around you. Nevertheless you are there. Always first to rise and meet the light, escaping darkness with restless flight. Song is part of you as are skies of blue. Clouds caress you as hounded souls march to downtrodden beat of dominating drum. “Take me with you!” I silently scream as wings scoop air with delight. Flesh anchors, but not entirely. Deeply woven freedom hidden from all, determines escape. To you with robust heart, delicate wings and magical solitude I fly. Nest is never made to last and so it is with earth. I see that through you as age creeps round the bones, yet still inability to fly persists. Tremendous are your numbers, but remains of you are few. Why? You grace us and leave in swiftness of the moment, tender is the view. Touched with elevation free of ego’s tragic gown, blessings gather round you along with morning dew. Still you demand attention, most cannot fathom why. They peer out from heavy curtains, yawn and say goodbye. Foolishness presents itself the door open wide, boring human perception gawps hopelessly. Flight of life you own is short, but oh so sweet. Too precious for human domination or mere man to understand. Lucky ones delve contentedly into quiet midst, until you fly too high. Mentor dancing in feathers plucked from Mother Earth you truly are a friend, wild and beautiful bird.
By Annie Frame. Copyright December 2013.
Bird(Annie Frame)
Bird
In the midst of life on earth you display illuminated status. Some observe in awe while others never wrap mind around you. Nevertheless you are there. Always first to rise and meet the light, escaping darkness with restless flight. Song is part of you as are skies of blue. Clouds caress you as hounded souls march to downtrodden beat of dominating drum. “Take me with you!” I silently scream as wings scoop air with delight. Flesh anchors, but not entirely. Deeply woven freedom hidden from all, determines escape. To you with robust heart, delicate wings and magical solitude I fly. Nest is never made to last and so it is with earth. I see that through you as age creeps round the bones, yet still inability to fly persists. Tremendous are your numbers, but remains of you are few. Why? You grace us and leave in swiftness of the moment, tender is the view. Touched with elevation free of ego’s tragic gown, blessings gather round you along with morning dew. Still you demand attention, most cannot fathom why. They peer out from heavy curtains, yawn and say goodbye. Foolishness presents itself the door open wide, boring human perception gawps hopelessly. Flight of life you own is short, but oh so sweet. Too precious for human domination or mere man to understand. Lucky ones delve contentedly into quiet midst, until you fly too high. Mentor dancing in feathers plucked from Mother Earth you truly are a friend, wild and beautiful bird.
By Annie Frame. Copyright December 2013.
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