(Painting- 'Wee Wonder'- Sarah Jane Conklin) |
The Birth
Born in a high
place
In the heat of
summer
In a secret spot
Still yet concealed
The beginning of a story,
Conceived with
purpose,
It came into
existence as hope
A product of
eagerness,
It danced to the
tune of affection
Flourishing and
thriving in the uncertainty
A long-awaited
spawn, an heir
And faith’s
progeny
The Flight
The little
strong-winged creature did take off
Flying high for
the first time
It saw the hills
and country,
Indeed, it saw the
city
It stopped for
rest on a sky-high rooftop
This bird sang all
the songs
Yet, its heart was
weak
A champion for
tomorrow
And harbinger of
expectation
Yes, it saw all
the bright colors
Short-term
survivor
Unaware of its
doom
The Death
And the bird
floundered
Having flown too
far too high
The wind was gone
Endless flapping
to stay on course
It flailed and dropped
Landing on a tree
branch
Perhaps it could
take flight again
But the tree
branch was false hope
And swiftly, the ambitious
little creature
Fell to its
inevitable death
And now exists
Only in memory
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