John Charley
let's not
say it
a bird highest solely fly,
highest high away
beautified wings than most in mind
most as everything, outreach,
than all it thinks to limit. skywards,
envision sky, note above clouds.
bird as tiny becomes, it looks down again
in all of it's mightiest swing,and
no matter how, long it's takes, it twist it turns
turns, slows acceleration;
then return turns, to where it knows,
-down ground like falling mother!
far from warming, of dreams and feathers.
time walking, slowly to a place of quench
parched, peached feathers plucked,
dishevelled shapes, spirit in margins.
who weathers the weather
who returns to remember;
there's always a way and time
-visible, invisible going is back at
times;,
bathing back into its dirt,
screams happy, as turns turn that song,
until something denies to give
of how busy life thinks to reap
as it silently figures out to betray, life into
what man configures, of that only way back,
but rest assures dream on the fires-wing,
to pick-up lost, and all of the marital nestling.
©️ john charley
