Small bird of my being,
you flit about
inside my mind
like a hummingbird
beating its wings
against clear glass.
you flit about
inside my mind
like a hummingbird
beating its wings
against clear glass.
So too,
you have flickered in my heart,
through all these years,
like a midnight gosling
seeking its mother,
in a strip of moonlight
on still water,
forever
in search of home.
you have flickered in my heart,
through all these years,
like a midnight gosling
seeking its mother,
in a strip of moonlight
on still water,
forever
in search of home.
Small bird,
you have fluttered
until your wings
grew tired and slow.
You are an old bird, now.
Your flying days are done.
Fold your wings and nest
in the stilled and silent chambers
of my heart.
Rest now,
for you will soon
be home.
you have fluttered
until your wings
grew tired and slow.
You are an old bird, now.
Your flying days are done.
Fold your wings and nest
in the stilled and silent chambers
of my heart.
Rest now,
for you will soon
be home.
Oh my goodness, this is so beautifully put. What a wonderful extended metaphor, Sherry. 🩷
ReplyDeleteBring your old bird wings over to Senryu Sunday I'ts not too far to fly
ReplyDeletehttps://rallentanda.blogspot.com/2026/09/senryu-sunday-september-27th.html
I will write a Senryu for you to cheer you up. Your poem is lovely We are the same age so I can relate but you are not allowed to stop flying until I say so:)
I agree with Jennifer -- a beautiful extended metaphor. It always saddens me though (to be honest) when you talk about things such as 'your flying days are done.' Really, Sherry, you have more life to live and more to contribute to the world. The wording you used is exquisite.
DeleteThis breaks my heart each time I read it..
ReplyDeleteThis poem is beautiful but, I am sure this birds wings are strong and has many flights yet to be taken. Love and peace my friend.
ReplyDelete