I am a bird
The forest was my home
It brought me peace, nourishment and a place to rest
My wings
Forever aching from the long day’s search for this place to reappear
Out of the darkness – clung to the stale air like a sleeping bat
Swaying with the draft, along side the others
Waiting
But my tired wings, they tremor while I sleep
They feel things I cannot think
The flight of my dreams is shouting to my soul
Defeating my fatigue with electric charge
With the warm breeze – my eyes open to see
This place is real
My wings brought me here
I am a bird.
The wind is my home
My talons cling to this dying branch
The sweet smell of the North bids me farewell
I embrace the current, my wings stretched as far as they can reach
And the wind frees my spirit once again
I glide up and far away from the last moment
I am a bird, I am home.
Dianne J Feris7 years ago
Thank you Leesa for your poem, The Bird. Interesting thoughts and lovely illustration. Good luck on ‘The Big Adventures of Little O; a song for the salmon.’ B.C. is one of the most beautiful provinces in Canada my husband and I try to visit annually when we go west to visit our children/grandchildren. My husband is a photographer and I’m a writer also. Keep writing and drawing about the nature surrounding you and I hope to read more about it.