Wrestled Notes

“I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, when his wing is bruised and his bosom sore; when he beats his bars and he would be free, it is not a carol of joy or glee, but a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core.” Paul Laurence Dunbar
andreation

Simple prognosticated rhythms flow and diverge

Collapsed principles pile in crumpled beats

Pounding the seconds to say a moment

A tickled thought dances in pretend reality

Hobbled by fettered hope in surreal mist

Finding shadows that breathe life in short bursts

Life’s nemesis throttles the throat of peaceful suns

Wrestled notes become a winged song

Leaving the Nest – An allegory of beginnings

 “God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into the nest.” – Josiah Gilbert Holland

A quick flap, one wing extended awkwardly.

Eyes bright with youth, song adolescent
A quick flap, approaching the fable

A quick jump, on the side of the nest, back down.
Feathers ruffled, haphazard layers
A quick jump, on the edge now stable.

A quick tumble, upside down, one foot holding on
Muscles untrained, weak and strong aloft
A quick tumble, upright, wings able

A quick flap, a quick jump, a quick tumble around
Flight revolution in the making
A quick flap, now leaving the cradle…