Blue Heron

There is a bird whose wings are the shades of a rainbow.

When he grieves his sighs pervade the caves of forgotten dreams.

His  sound is the laughter of children  flowing like

rippling  rivers to   soothe the hearts of angels.

His tongue drips with the honey of desert flowers and

his eyes are  an ocean of shimmering shores.

When he is thirsty he  sips  viscous dew from my feathers

painted in his colors.

When adventure calls  we lift our wings and fly away.

 

 

Blue Heron Sunset

 

Blue Heron

There is a bird the color of a rainbow.

When he grieves his song pervades the caves of forgotten dreams.

His laughter is a river that sings like children,

it flows through stone to soothe the abandoned.

His tongue drips with the honey of desert flowers.

Wading wide shores of light when we are thirsty

we sip from feathers painted in his colors

when adventure calls we lift our wings and fly away.

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