Friday, March 25, 2011

in a red bird




there is not always magic
            in a red bird
brown birds share virtue
and caged birds
though yellow will not always sing at given time

yet, i have
been given ample time, having squandered
some, thrown some
away and openly confess to killing my share of it; but
today i have been
forgiven it appears, for these transgressions
as if all is transitory if not
transparent - with choosing to see holding own its life, its own
candle to the hourglass, exposing sand
left for dead as still capable of  falling
under shade of day
or in Nightingale's silence

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

6 comments:

  1. nice...like the sands at the end and allusion to the hourglass...time is such a fluid thing and we never know when the last will fall...so live/love those bird songs...

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  2. what a lovely poem to read this morning.

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  3. Beautiful."...exposing sand...left for dead..." What a nice thing to find in life, time ahead.

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  4. I think perhaps this is the song of some bird, I confess I do not know. But oh so lovely!

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  5. Does a caged bird have a grasp of time? Would we...if we were in that cage? Provoking and captivating write...oh if only we could borrow the wings of a bird...perhaps we would know.

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  6. lorely, i believe most of us have been in a cage at one time or another in our life..even if of our own making....did we grasp time, or should i say "did i" grasp this time - only when i longed for change or freedom...growing wings...is something we have to do..testing them is a true act of faith...we can not land with out flying...bkm

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