Cargando...

77

Maybe I’m worried my words will run out.
So many I see– falling into the drought.
Is it caused by getting to a place of needing clout?
Will I ever find out?
Keeping it all in– I’ll never know.
A life lived in the darkness– no way to grow.
Climb up to the aviary and let the birds go.
 
77 birds– said they were set free.
Curious how many will come and find me.
Flying in unison– perfect form and harmony.
A gift from the heavens for us all to see.
 
~I.S.~

11.2023.09

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Introverted Sage...



Top