There was a bird who flew the skies


There was this bird who flew the skies,
Her song a clear and bold reprise,
She won my heart, and chased her true I did,
To have her and to hold
Without compromise.

Her voice my only concert then,
Her shape my only stage and pen,
Playful and free, none else in all my sky,
My partner and my theme,
My best and truest friend.

But compromise I did and set
My heart adrift, my passions let,
Chased phantoms of the night and danced upon
Stages not my own,
And soon came to forget…

…That phantoms cannot give embrace,
Cannot love and have no face,
Though this I knew, yet driven off my course
By phantoms of the night,
Out of love’s true space.

And now return to my own stage,
Seek love’s first script but find no page,
Her song I crushed, wings clipped and left to die,
I left my song and joy,
And locked her in a cage.

Now phantoms false and empty shown,
My truest love, that bird, now known,
I pray her sing again and leave behind
All else to seek her true,
I’m to her refuge flown.

Oh bind my heart again and sing
Enchanting songs of love that bring
And tie my heart to yours I pray and beg;
Your tender voice now raised and
Me hid beneath your wing.

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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