When I spread my wings

I can feel the pull of freedom.

I spread them wide and trail

my shadow the way birds do.

Your hands are elegant thieves

and your words a web of lies

that shine right through.

What is real or an illusion

in this desperate nest of chaos

where I found you?

When the veil falls apart and

the daylight slivers in  I can see

the slant of sky where you slipped in.

 

89 thoughts on “Blue Bird

  1. Ahhh, MK nails me with squirrels in his rafters and weevils in his head. Always enjoyed his guitar, song, and lyrics. I don’t know how you do it, but you do. I read your poem and had to come back a few times. I sense a free spirit holding to those sweet dreams and perfect illusions. Why not, moments of bliss erase a lot of hell and damnation. And, so, we hold on too long sometimes.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. And a lovely poem it was. When my Head Elves run away with it, you know you had them ooohing and ahhhing back there behind my eyes. 🤩. Glad you like 16. The next few scenes really bust loose.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. My!It’s getting exciting over there. Seriously, the story is beautiful and I want to write a poem about it but to date my muse has not steered me that way. Perhaps it’s very intricacies are more than a mere poem can handle.

          Like

          1. If I’m not mistaken, I think you followed me a while back. But I’ve been a terrible person on the blog for some time and just now checking your blog out. Forgive me?

            Like

          2. I found your blog to be filled with political propaganda. I think we’ve had enough of that, as a result of this unsubstantiated tripe we have a demented moron in the White House.

            Like

          3. I have only a little about politics in my blog. Mostly poetry, an array of topics. I didn’t think I had much about politics though..

            Liked by 1 person

Comments are now closed.