My, how time flies. And then stagnates. And then flies. As an addict, i frequently cycle between obsessions, one being writing. I can't believe it's been three months that i've been silent. Not on purpose, simply distracted by other wonderful distractions--such as reading, homework, painting, exercising, and quitting smoking. (Some have been more enjoyable than others.)
But, alas, i return to you with an open heart and fresh ink. I have missed reading your work and the comraderie of our mutual language, and i hope you have missed mine, as i have missed writing. That being said, i propose my newest creation, entitled:
Shattering the Sky
Sometimes I wonder about the Little Bird
struggling inside his shell
as his tiny beak attempts to crack
the concrete shield encompassing him.
Every now and then
he must collapse
shrinking back in defeat
Little wings aching
from pounding fruitlessly
Little welts growing
on the thin membrane of his flippers
Everytime Little Bird tries to find
a new spot to punch
he is met with resounding echoes
from a callous wall.
How many of these new babies collapse
into hopelessness, certain
that there is nothing beyond the great white void...
and that breaking what traps them
would be akin to
breaking the sky?
Little bird yells:
Is there no life beyond this egg?
How do you know you are inside an egg
when you've never been outside an egg?
Little bird must rely
on some suspicious inner Voice
telling him that someday
the echoes of resistance will
sound like
the cracking of the universe...
Voice whispers:
The pain in your wings is temporary.
If you give up now, you will miss out on everything.
But you gotta earn it.
At brief times, i think
Little Bird hears this Voice clearly.
Most times, though, his walls remain silent
save for the thumping
of his tiny head.
Nevertheless
he makes a choice to keep struggling
because at all times,
he is sure
that he is not home
yet.
10 comments:
i think at times we are all that little bird...glad you did not give up trying...welcome back
Yes, most of the times in our living, we are not yet at home... and you convey this through your words so beautifully... I enjoyed it. thanks for sharing...
ॐ शांति ॐ
Om Shanti Om
May peace be… pray for People of Japan
________
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/03/whispers-love-and-insignificance.html
Wonderful. :-)
I am glad to see you back.
A creative perspective—a bird's-eye-view from inside a shell. Very cool idea.
"...he is sure that he is not home yet." I love that last line! Welcome back!
OH I had to rub my eyes to believe it was you Fury!
yeah..yes I have missed you
now...little birds inside the shell have been given a shell tooth sort of thing on their beaks
to aid them in cracking the whole darn thing wide open
now...I ask.. what are humans given for this task?
so happy you're back
wow, you rocked on this one,
well done.
I see the imagery of the bird and more..
perfect writing..
:)
Wonderful to see you back again,
I loved this poem for all the thoughts that it awakes, both birdlife and human experiences.
Nice spring thoughts!
Best wishes, Eileen
welcome, back :)
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