my songbird heart.

deep in my heart, where the song birds fly, there is this churning

because in this forest, the birds are hearing a call, a yearning

to be away from here, to seek, to find something to become.

to recover the path to the promised land and simply glide along,

but my bones are brittle and weak, drained from being me

and my marrow thin and depleted -- when i try to fly, i see

the fastly approaching ground. then down down down,

i fall like the leaf wavering in the air-lifted, sudden shroud

caught up, left behind, and longing for some destiny to wrap

its wings around me. 

maybe someday, my heart will find its flock

and move like one forward and beyond in a shock of 

bold feathers and beaks and trilling heart-songs filled with love,

soar to the south towards the breaking skies and dawning dusks

maybe then i will find the nest i have been coveting, 

and the song i wish to sing, forming this melody of horizons
into the life i dream, resting there upon the uptilted dawn, drawn
like an artist paints the world with the colors of the sea,

and simply just be.