The bird
who is not a bird
but has mosaic feathers
dipped in tar
this bird
who is neither oil nor waterproof
and then
licked by white fire
lent by God or fishermen
some happen-chance salvation of sorts
this bird
rises as phoenican ships will be
swallowed momentarily by
cresting waves the size of
bursts with light only matched
by a lifting of spirit into cloud
casting her netted permanance
against rush and churn
of life fighting with itself
this bird
who now possesses compass and ink
soars in oxygen and silence
this bird
who spent years
fearing how
instinctively breaks through
the barrier of herself

0 Replies to “The barrier of herself”

    1. Dearest Betty, thank you so much. I rarely write uplifting work (such is my wont) and so when I do it invariably is more popular and appreciated even I confess, by myself! πŸ˜‰ Thank you again xo

      1. Human nature I guess. But we need both kinds of poetry. Life isn’t all sweetness and light. (I wonder if we’d want it to be.) You’re a versatile poet, as you write of all sides of life with acute perception. Hard to do! πŸ’“πŸ’•

      1. I hope you have not stopped. The last post disturbed I that you sounded defeated.
        My dear I have lived 60 years now and the one thing I have learned is that there are very definite times when you must say Fuck It and do for you and only you. I hope this reaches you for I want you to continue as you encourage me.

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