Tag: flight

Inner Heart

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Cold pangs of my inner heart
Have wildly swung amidst this wind
Clanging loudly against
Metallic edges of home
Where doors have been hung.

To aid my truth voice
In a song of no-mans-land,
I’ve wrapped my steel blades
In a leather sheath
To keep my quivering hand
From starting in a blur.

But pangs in message
– A lonesome call beyond forest’s wild –
Share what can never be drafted,
For a dove doth always take flight
Though eye’s embrace
Captures feverishly each beating wing
Against late mornings glow.

There doth echo
Memory once laid
And dreams yet played
For in a forgotten breath
A clang, a pang,
A caress of death
Deeply embraced
Amidst this inner heart.

Tune of Love (day 3165)

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I wanna make love to you.
Not the love that races to the end
But the love that fills the sky
At dusk,
Or that dwells deep within the hearts
Of Canadian geese in flight.
I want to make love to you
Like the lazy sunshine
That kisses with closed eyes
In the middle of a green grass field
With bees drunkily stumbling by
On sweet mother Gaia’s nectar.
I want to make love to you
So that you feel the ocean rise
And swell
And lightly float around
From pink-red starfish tides
And the slow rush
Of retreating and surfaced seaweed
That entangles your every sense
As you submit to its enveloping wetness.
I want to make love to you there
Where sheets become props
And danger lurks within our eyes
Like phantoms who’ve been hiding
For generations.
I want to be there with you
For when you play lightly the strings
Of your most sensitive song
I shall be listening
So intent on your tune.

Ode to a Red Tail (day 3077)

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In a screeching halt
The red tail swept in
Wings flashing
Gray and black
And a golden brown
Of its vibrant tail
Left me speechless
As I watched.
So mysterious,
So close to home,
So brave in its approach.
Then just as quick
Off in flight
Those big wings began to wave
Elegant and smooth
Like a ballroom dance
Off, beyond my sight.

Wander To Withdraw (day 3049)

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I wandered here as if lost
One eye on the path
The other asking my Gods
What makes a Man a Man.
I saw sunlight between the boughs
I saw spiders in their webs
I saw the great Fir’s bark
So cavernous and traversed.
I felt deep inside my heart
The partridge that took flight;
So close and thunderous,
So quickly she was off.
I saw the dam the busy Beaver built
Saw his second one too
Which made me feel like an invader
A secret nest so wild.
Then I turned at a landmark
Headed towards where I knew
And back to my familiar trail
To home I then withdrew.

No Words (day 2839)

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Did you listen when I spoke no words?
I could hardly lean to take flight
Soar away, hide away
Aloof my trail ablaze.

I woke up from a foggy bliss
Tended to my flock,
Stepped into a day of glass
Dew upon my shoe.

When I carried over my heart,
Sealed with each singing bird’s note,
T’was then I had no words to share
No sound to match such pure delight.

Oak Leaves (day 2820)

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It is a problem,
For I have not found it here yet.
Spires have taken my holiness
Unaccounted for,
Untrained,
Un-restricted.
Like a dove in flight,
But without regret.
There shall be no more passion,
No more emotional choices.
So it lays thus, solid and lifeless,
Awaiting a deep agony,
A lifeless sympathy,
That shall agree with
No more of this world
And of its gains.
Floundered,
Spinning into earth
Yet leaving marks: vivid,
As the Oak leaf stays
Through Winter.

Overwhelm (day 2620)

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This is the feeling of overwhelm:
Two days of rain and projects building up,
Floor bound when flight’s on,
Time to readdress.
This short story takes turns
Down a windy road
With frequent signs of introspection
No matter how many steps to the top.
Self imposed time crunch
Rehearses for none
Though all week long there’s been impending stops
Leaking through the roof.
How frequent doth thou mind relook
Over building plans and agreed terms,
Dollar signs and debits.
And when nighttime comes,
Hard day’s toil leaves sleep slow
When the cold wind blows ever nearer
The open window of deception.

Dare These Wings to Fly (day 2595)

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Dare these wings to fly
Though they ache like grace feels shy
And the good calls lonely
With each sunset it watches,
Walking away from pennies on the pavement
While holding on to nothing
– No resemblance of life.
Can a rhythm be found?
A pulse of life struggling
With iron clad hemispheres
Buckling down a goodnight.
So there, can flight be had?
Geese migrate South
As these trees set in
For an evening of dew
And a pale awakening
To ancient songs of return.