they wake - crawl from their beds - blinking and dusty and dream-soaked - their little hands still clutching the leaves that fell with them as they fell from the dreamtrees - they always fail the climb - they never reach the top
they raise their heavy heads - they look to the sun - hanging bright in every window - brighter in every sky - and wonder if this could be spring - so early in the day, so early in the year
they nod and know that anything is possible in their world - though not necessarily welcome - in their world winter is good, winter is welcome - as who else will wrap them in grey blankets and let them sleep a season away
5 comments:
Sorrowful yet beautiful. It reads like a dream.
It's me isn't it? How awful that we retreat from challenges in life like this. It's sufficient for us to be hurt once, and this reaction kicks in. Birds who don't make it from the nest, into the sky. All of us. An insightful analogy.
Glad it struck a chord for you fjl - to me the best writing is that in which everyone can find something that seems to relate directly to them. Your posts achieve that for me - and hopefully mine for you.
I enjoy metaphors and analogies using birds, this is what attracted me to your group. Are there ever bluebirds on the white cliffs of Dover or is it analogy?
You may be in luck, I think in the near future there may be more bird related writings on here! No bluebirds Im afraid - just people throwing themselves off Beachy Head!
Post a Comment