Sweet,
a pair of cooing birds
on my birthday,
his dark beauty
shining
as he gifted me
with doves.
Sweet,
the small finch
flying
to his hand,
his dark eyes
smiling at me
across the room.
Bitter,
the day
I told him
that I had to go,
his hand opening the door
of the dove's cage
and setting her free.
Bittersweet moments,
the rest of my life,
every time I hear
the call of doves
cooing
from the trees.
for Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif: Bittersweet. Of which life has an ample supply of moments. Smiles. And for Kerry's prompt at Real Toads: Goodbye.
Wow. What symbolism in the letting go of the gifted dove on that last day. Definitely a tangible memory to carry forward yourself as well.
ReplyDeleteYes, it seems their call is always bittersweet!
ReplyDeleteI've learned that if it feels like a cage, it probably is one. Bravo for knowing when the door should be opened! I think bittersweet is a fine wine, aged and wise and ready to drink. It's never merely bitter. And so, I love this poem.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your poem very much Sherry, reminds me of a song from my childhood. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteYour poem leaves me wanting more ... and the "rest of the story". The analogy of the dove set free is brilliant!
ReplyDeleteSherry,
ReplyDeleteSometimes the freedom paid for freedom,,or to be free to fly; is quite a price. It's simply the need at a time...we've all had an experience of that nature Sherry..
Excellent poem with a subject greatly felt..
Oh i luv the suprise turn of the last verse.
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my blog today Sherry
Muchđź’–love
How enchanting that both you and I wrote about doves for the "bittersweet" prompt! There's some kinship thing going on here, I think. :)
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful and touching poem Sherry. Would it be that all break ups could end so amicably.
ReplyDeleteCages are comfortable. Some birds don't fly away even with the door left open.
ReplyDeleteLike the metaphor of the dove being freed!
ReplyDeleteWhen freedom becomes sweet it has to have bitter memories. Love the dove that was on its wings again.
ReplyDeleteLetting something/someone loved go is always hard. To free isn't always easy.
ReplyDeleteOh this is so beautifully poignant, Sherry! Your poem makes me want to know more about the story behind it.
ReplyDeleteOh, this is such a beautiful piece, Sherry!! Knowing nothing makes us teachable. Let go and just let everything be as it may....To free someone is never easy!
ReplyDeleteLetting go is so hard to do - incredibly moving poem to the sound of cooing doves
ReplyDeleteLife is made of things in balance, but it is obvious... balance doesn't always taste good in the mouth.
ReplyDeleteThis brings back thought about Maya Angelou...
ReplyDeleteThe caged bird sings
with a fearful trill ...
Wonderful
It's amazing how strongly memories can hit us, just by hearing a simple sound.
ReplyDeleteCertainly, a particular sound may be so strongly linked to memory as to take one back to the past, and the emotions can be overwhelming, both the sweet and the bitter.
ReplyDeleteParting is not always under pleasant circumstances. A sweet and happy beginning but a terribly bitter ending relationship.
ReplyDelete..
Well done for so neatly counterbalancing the sweet and the bitter, Sherry, with poignancy.
ReplyDeleteBittersweet moments
ReplyDeleteevery time I hear
the call of doves
It was most kind to expect such a reaction when it was a moment of kindness that prompted the release in the first place! It was very human, Sherry!
Hank
Beautiful, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteThe idea and image of these soft and gentle creatures, when offered as a gift, the way we see the beauty, although as with all creatures, there are ferocious sides inherent to their nature, etc. but the gentleness, the softness of feathers, the bird song, it offers something so quietly soul stirring - so indeed, bittersweet when the need is the choice - to release and let go - and the triggers, the lasting impressions - imprinted on the soul, these are so powerfully offered here Sherry. Truly, a stunning poem.
ReplyDeleteAt our last home, I had doves that would visit our feeder daily - flighty birds - but their cooing I adored and miss it now. Lovely poem.
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