Caught in gusts and blows.
Foreign trees to rest.
Bringing all the storms, to every leaf and bough.
Songs stretched through horizon, feathering the now.
Drawing on the roof top, a breathless cry of pain.
Bullets of the cloud form, drowning in the rain.
Headed on to Ursa, tired wings still fly.
Fighting for the welcome,
of flocks above the sky.
This is a beautiful poem. Please tell me, is this a poem about a baby sparrow that has died from falling from the nest? I really must know.
ReplyDeleteThey poem has several personal meanings to me. Your view of a baby bird falling from the nest is very touching. I wrote the poem when I was struggling with my spirituality and going through a bit of depressions. Its about seeking relief from a Higher Power when you are caught in pain and dispair.
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