Song Bird Rising

I feel the energy of the song bird rising A single feather Twirling like spun cotton Racing, yet free falling to the ground Attire of the song bird Almost offering itself to be re created Reborn in music Re written verse I hold in my hand satin, maybe silk Strumming my fingers through delicate bristles Blowing movement into a lifeless cloth Spiralling as a spinning top Tip as sharp as a needles spike From a living creature Clothes of flight Patterned, colourful Alert, yet still Twisting, twiddling this ancient quill Close my eyes as I try to fly Over rain-bowed clouds In a scarlet sky Stroking playful upon my arm A pleasure that could do no harm Texture of a smooth-tongued skin As I take this ink and dip you in Falling droplets of darkened blue Azure, navy, sapphire too Like blood that trickles from an open wound I write this letter as the paper blooms A splat, a flick, a playful stain Dry's to reveal a song birds feather On a papyrus page