(Photo: Lara Jade)
I was, and then, I fell asleep.
I could not wake even the will of the deep.
I then flew above my own journey’s zest
And perched upon a nest where dreams did rest.
Would that I lived like a bird born new
With mother, feeding and warming the night through.
I would be right with all futures plight
Soon to set wing and find my own might.
Yet fallen, and buried from flights to bemoan
Sleep was smothered in embers of the past overgrown
The heart had lost its’ wings and a prayer
To hope, redeem and reclaim its’ dare.
We do not seem to “recover” all to new
Nor grow feathers that display a completely new hue,
Yet though now seen alone in a broken nest
There was chance to review what had transgressed.
One wing had cast the stones and the mire
Out and over into an earthen fire.
Smoldering ashes rose into a cloud
That scattered air crystals, their heavenly shroud.
The other wrapped my heart with care
And kept warmth upon the tremors there.
If not altered to a new hue
My mother birds’ wings restored love’s imbue.
Awakened, I felt the breath of a prayer
as though a dearest One had been just there.
and though I wanted to curl back into the nest
A whisper told me to rise, return, and find myself blessed.
©2012 Linda Willows