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Bird Spiritual Poems | Bird Poems About Spiritual

These Bird Spiritual poems are examples of Bird poems about Spiritual. These are the best examples of Bird Spiritual poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

Walking through the wetlands

This poem s in a style created by Christina R Jussaume


Walking through the wetlands

I’m walking through the wetland trails
The trees are soaking from the rain
I’m always here I’m back again
I’m walking through the wetland trails
The birds are singing in the trees
As feather leaves dance on the breeze
I feel the rain, I feel the rain.

I’m walking through the wetland trails
A kookaburra laugh’s out loud
The rain it forms a kind of shroud
I’m walking through the wetland trails
Two kangaroos go leaping past
The rain it seems has stopped at last
The bird laughs loud, the bird laughs loud.

I’m walking through the wetland trails
I feel around me chimes of love
Now sun shines softly from above
I’m walking through the wetland trails
I feel in nature all around
The breath of God that can be found
In chimes of love, in chimes of love

I feel Gods presence up above.

20 August 2014 0845hrs.


Details | Rhyme | |

Whilst in the valley

Whilst in the valley

Whilst alone down in the valley
I gazed upon a deep blue sky
As my senses, they did rally
The birds above me they did fly
My eyes they filled with gentle tears
That would douse the fiercest fire
I stood there in the morning glory
As river flowed that never tires.

The birds they sang a melody
As morning sun, its rays did gleam
River lapped so peacefully
As I stood there filled with dreams
Dreams of love, and dreams of laughter
Touched my heart and made it sing
Was I in the great hereafter?
Oh such love this morn did bring

The solitude so soft and mellow
It held me in its sweet caress
There I was one happy fellow
All filled with so much tenderness
I stood there in that flowing river
Listening to the chimes of peace
I prayed unto my Lord, the giver
As I felt such sweet release

13 November 2014


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Child's Peace

Tell me of your peace. 
Let it tell your story now
Of trials and tribulations, a tale not of dreams
Weary from a journey of self-discovery
My child, know the comfort in your peace
You feel hope in this familiar place 
As it gently sloughs the pain away 
Tell me of your peace 
In which we all are blessed and free
Search throughout your soul sweet child
Peer not within your cluttered mind 
Look out to rest your tired eyes but do not let them see
Solace found strewn upon daily thoughts is fleeting at it's best
Lasting merely moments, in untouched souls a true peace 
Oh yes! You'll know when you arrive but only you will know 
The world will melt away as a candle left under the blazing sun
Away away, until you feel home again, an unguided familiar scene
An innocence once lost is restored, all sins suddenly forgiven
Soaking this in with relucant ease, 
Breathe it deep with a slow release
Take it in, delight in details you discover
Be calm here child, please have no fear, I am here 
You are safe in this place of yours, no hurt no tears
We share not the same peace, no no
Unique to each of us, yet stranger to none
Trust in more than what you see, know beauty is within reach
We share this unspoken bond of freedom from ourselves
Please young one, listen closer now 
I say, leave it all behind you love, it will only weigh you down
Cleanse yourself of careless words and careful lies 
I know you're weary, let go of all you carry
Don't be afraid, here you are burden free 
Trust in you, blessed one, it's easier than you believe
Sweet child, tell me now if you see
Peace resting deep within 
Waiting for you
For you to let it be


Details | Ballade | |

Why aren't we happy

Why aren’t we happy?

What is it in the most of us?
We are not how we should be
We should be like a singing bird
Who boldly, in the trees
Sings his song when fear is done
His life just flows along
He only knows the dance of life
So he just sings his song.


And yet we humans live our lives
Enfolded in our fears
Glorifying in the sad
And making this quite clear
As we always speak of doom and gloom
And watch it on TV
And always live our lives in fear
Is this the way it should be?


If only each would take a look
And see just what we be
We never see the flowers grow
Or let our hearts be free
Maybe it’s time to see the truth
Of what this life could be
If we look at life without the fear
And live with mystery.

6 August 2013 @ 1908hrs.


Details | Dizain | |

Rising Sun

Observe how the ants labor without a peep;
Note the fine artistry of the spider's web-spinning;
Who will wake the bear from his long winter sleep?
Stand in awe of the hummingbird flapping its wings;
Listen to the lovely melody the songbirds sing;
Watch the majestic hawks leave their nests and soar;
Bask in the rising sun's heat at the ocean shore.
An invitation into God's presence  
comes from the sun, the creatures, and much more.
All of His creation emits His essence.


Details | Etheree | |

I write spiritual



I write Spiritual

I really love to write words spiritual
Of sweet nature, and the song of joy
Lay mystery at reader’s feet
Lots of rhythm I employ
I write of birds, and trees
Always write with ease
And lovely style
To make those
Who read
Smile
Love
And read
My sweet words
About the trees
The sweet mystery
All the lovely flowers
And all the magic power
That always mesmerises me
Makes my mind go to our holy God
Whose sacred path it really must be trod

25 September 2014.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Covenant - Beauty in Imperfection

Covenant

Impenitent, deposited her soul before
the convent's calling of redemption turned to prayer,
her covenant, inside the sanctum to implore,
canonical sustains her matin's aubade e'er.

( The ghostly reservation spreads, outside, in air
in harmony and misty dew that nymphs bestow;
Her white and vast Invernal quilt, bequeaths his fare;
man's mountain flight in solitude, becomes a crow. )

The waiting holocaust, impertinent consumes,
abundant insularity, her life in gale,
this holiness' transparency, both souls entombs,
- besought expressions of entreat on holy trail.

Her imperfection is immured inside the hope
distrait is her salvation's route; ascends effused,
in abstinence disporting fates, who dormant grope,
emending consecrated souls that reigns refused.

With uttered sentiments and mindful heed,
cherubic, grants her vows to him and burdened scope,
attentive to his Crucifix, plasticity of mead,
was it the crow's night omen call and skyward lope?

She joins her palms, ex-courtesan and reason's mi're,
perusing her late impudence, in prayer withdraws
by beauty's blessed her holiness, a thorny bri'ar,
Eve christened maid of covenant and crimson flaws.

©11-29-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic hexameter)


Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Free verse | |

Beak of Night

BEAK OF NIGHT

Following the glow in every star in my eyes
I lay here in the frenzy grass with swimming thoughts
Escapading~
Thunder hides in the still of the night
Doves fly high in an epic way
Swans glide in the mist of night
Everest tears, run down my cheeks 
Speechless~
 ------- I left you-------------------

The wind carries the sorrow from a chime, 
A touch with aromatic perfume, that turns out control
My shadows peeks around the warmth of a Phoenix mirage
My head is losing balance to a negative magnetic seal
Secretiveness ~

Sleepwalking with the tendency to crawl
My feelings stray as I lay on this frenzy grass of snow
Years that come and years that go
Things In life I will never know
I pass the morning till the night popsicles away
A blanket of snow to cover my dream
Wings taking flight near the river stream
Mockingbirds protecting their branch
In every scream!
Silence~
---------------- Far Away-------------

Leaves fall on me like an endless Odyssey Romance
I'm a lonely sparrow with an enigmatic look
A Gothic Dance, under the stars
Prancing under the devil's claw
I hold myself
Side to side
I lose myself to an ironic form.
Zero is what I can't perceive. 
Muteness~

With and without a beak
The mystique of my lips
Is all billiard-up
My mouth sewn shut
Shut up~
--------------No Words, Indeed------

EPIC
By; p.d.


Details | Epic | |

The Stork I


The ship arrived surrounded by fog's dew,
his years she carried on her seaward tracks,
the wide upfront, horizon's line was dark,
- a stork he was, comradely to her crew.

(Thus, curious, he stood upon the moors,
projecting epitome of their rejoice,
and stern, the sea-waves' hum, repressed their voice,
enduring memory the dusk allures.)

A trenchant stork, with harbors in cahoot,
side-gazing for the sunken to discern,
Perceived the sea-men deftness and concern,
applied the color of night's darkened soot.

The dusk abraded then, the ship's details,
still numbness; maybe was the ship that stared,
as his persistent - curious eyes paired
with mind's perseverance, head-rope and brails.

Around the ship quizzical boats tripped,
like wooden cradles-coffins, they were stray,
companions lost beyond skylines' array,
sea's signalizing roar, on moorings whipped.

( Their sacrosanct ascent designed the stairs,
for spotless angels to walk amidst light blue,
like then the stork recited what was true,
- a dark night ship, for his bird's story cares.

And then they fled to skies - two comets' glows
that cut through distances, in ardent Spring
a song for wanderers, harmonic link,
- the emerald of Aegean shallows. )

What foolishness of storks, invites the ship,
stray souls to marry in night's ebon phase,
two finger-funnels tall, on skies to praise,
wraiths' upstage flight, on everlasting trip?

© G.V. 09/25/2012 All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Blank verse | |

The sky lark




Details | Ballade | |

Like a Phoenix bird

Like a Phoenix bird

Like a Phoenix bird
I have rose above the fire
I live for just this moment
I have me no desire
For anything at all
I just live to be
I have left the flames behind
I am life, so fancy free.

Like a phoenix bird
I ride the skies above
All anger gone
I live, me, just for love
A love for life 
For all, and everything
Such shades of joy
Each moment does, me bring

Like a phoenix bird
The lessons have been learned
I live in harmony
I have that for which I’ve yearned
I live to be
I have rose above the fire
I am a lotus flower
That blooms above the mire.

7 June 2014 @ 0753hrs


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

Let me go

              Let me go
 show me out the door with kind words
  I want you to Love me ..
  not punish by Force
 My Prison, my warden 

                 Let me go
          My choice to be Free
      Free of suppression,  of my own creativity
       let me decide for myself
               my destiny 

                Let me go
           let go of me gracefully
     I belong to myself , children and God
       Let me go , let go of me 
                 I am free 
            to choose to love and give
                 I am Free 
          from what burdens me 
                now I am Free
            


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Elayne of the rocks


Elayne will reach the mountain spring
fresh water in the jug to pour,
the nightingales are there to sing,
untamed her feelings lonely soar.

She fills her heart with music notes,
her voice will cause the leaves to stir,
for lovers' pain sole antidotes
are songs of birds and nightly myrrh.

And as her lyrics rise to heav'n,
and render modes of the soft wind,
her palms caress his name engrav'n
on her betrothal golden ring.

He left her world and promised that
one Sunday they would meet in church;
a framed old shot of surface matte
and daily trails her glances search.

Elayne of springs, on rocks awaits,
and recreates her wedding feasts;
the wraiths around her dance with fates,
for eons play in cotton mists.

As one of them stares in her eyes,
she gropes her heart because she loves;
upon the rocks mentates she nice,
her golden ring and two white doves.

© Giorgio V., 07-22-2012
(Iambic tetrameter)


Details | Ode | |

Ode


The juggler moves his fingers fast, 
he likes to smile and to deceive, 
when people laugh at his recast, 
his goal's higher things to achieve, 
for Bathsheba applauds and laughs.

Her hands she claps with sullen glee, 
changed him to a marionette, 
that sprawls for her obediently, 
       jinxed tragicomical duette, 
       he jumps defeating gravity.

The juggler walks on tightened rope, 
St. Bernard will protect his act, 
frail equilibrium's postponed, 
he'll pass across, crows' croaks detract, 
agleam granite pavement's below.

Unmoved he laid, (lost souls misgive) , 
the juggler sprawled did not bemoan, 
the sawbones's charlatan and thief, 
as Bathsheba failed to dethrone, 
the clown's tangential unknown grief.

© G. V. 12/23/2012, All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)



Details | ABC | |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
branch 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
gracefully 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential


Details | Verse | |

Two birds


Two birds

We heard the owls' becrowing words,
foreboding of our steadfast grief,
they fled to dusk - two mourning birds
life's borderlines and false beliefs.

Two owls have passed, in gray and black,
straight arrows fled to vanish yon
our longest trip on railway tracks,
bemocking company and gone.

Upon our train have sat the birds,
the passengers won't go to stars;
poetic emptiness of words
that rhymes with unforgiven mars.

Unspoken are we, in the cars,
suspended is the pilot's gaze,
the rails become two iron bars
and death's advancing mauve bouquets.

The heads move with the engine's chug
like dancing poppies in the breeze,
and none among us will debug
why are we Charon's invitees.

The souls imprisoned trail along
the thrumming engine's wordless
rites and wait through nothingness and
wrongs their trip to reach uncounted heights.

© 01-19-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter) 

Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest Name: Night Owl
Deadline: 8/27/2014



Details | Sonnet | |

Crow II


He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?

The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".

Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.

And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.

© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
(English sonnet)


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird


" The Butterfly and The Hummingbird ... "

(From The Solomon Studies Series)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29)



The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Are So Beautiful Among The Flowers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Can Mesmerize Me For Hours

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, When Sighted - Opens Observation Towers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Seem To Climb Upon Air Ladders

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both,  Have Their Own Unique, Exquisite Patterns

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Seem To Remind Us of What Really Matters

Tho' One's Ballet Is Languid-Soft 
and One Propels The Wind In Place Aloft

One Delights In Dances  / As One - Sweet Nectar Devours
Still, Both Are Delicate and Refreshing As Mist Showers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Have Made Our Flowerbeds, Their Bowers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, A Sensation-Creation - Not Ours

Because The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Came From Almighty GOD's (Let There Be Light) Powers!


       Written & Copyrighted ©:  1/4/2014
                by:  MoonBee  Canady






Details | Free verse | |

THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS

THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS
When summer ends, autumn begins. The leaves fall from the trees. Such a beautiful sight and done so spiritually. Magical is the change of the seasons into the New Year. I saw a red bird today and enjoyed her chirping. Gathering food, she was on my window ledge. Pillared to be quite successful, her tiny wings went a flight. The red beak is all that was seen as she entered the sky. Absolutely beautiful is when the leaves fall from the trees. Summer has ended with autumn’s inception. I can feel the breeze. ________________________________________| PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!


Details | Rhyme | |

The Birdie

That birdie was singing a beautiful song
I pretended it was for me
The notes played like a musical flute
Its melody a symphony

I looked around that little bird
Sitting in an evergreen tree
What could make it sing like that?
Was it really singing for me?

Manna fell from heaven
As breadcrumbs found their way
And the birdie sang even louder
It had something it wanted to say

To live in the moment
And appreciate this gift
I look at the birdie
And my soul it does lift

For even heaven knows the birdie
Its every need and care
It worries not for tomorrow
It appreciates the breeze - the air

I want to be the birdie
Singing a beautiful song
Let me remember this moment
May it live ever long


Details | Free verse | |

The Tiger and The Peacock


" The Tiger and The Peacock ... "

(From The Solomon Studies Series)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29)




The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Have Beautiful Eyes

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are A Wildlife Prize

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Walk In Graceful,, Stately Strides

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are  Lovely, Lustrous Designs

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are The Artwork of Someone Wise

Tho' One Be A Bird and One Feline
Both - Are The Amazing, Handiwork of JAH's


      Written & Copyrighted ©:  1/4/2014
               by:  MoonBee  Canady




Details | I do not know? | |

The ashes


 The day is bright and I'm happily awakened
 by the gift of daylight, the sky is clear but a
 few wisps of scattered clouds. I lay and stare
 these clouds slowly drifting past, a dragon 
 breathing fire next two cherubs with bows 
 of desire. I wonder will I be engulfed in fire,
 burnt to ashes like the Phoenix and rising up 
 a new free bird.


Details | Ballad | |

How the I Ching came about

How the ‘I Ching’ came about.

Once there lived a wise old man
His name, it was Lau Tzu
This man he lived in ancient China
And what he loved to do
Was watch the birds, and all the beasts
And watch the rivers flow
He had no time for the foolish ones
Who’d say these words ‘I know!’

Folk would come from miles around
To hear this old man speak
Hanging on to every word
For they had come to seek
The secret of their lives, through him
Though he had naught to say
Except to flow just like a river
And live your life today.

One day he made to go and live
Where the forests, they grew wild
But he was stopped there at the gate
For the guards he had beguiled
They made him stop and write a book
Before they’d let him go
That’s how the ‘I Ching’ came about
A book to help folk grow.

26 December 2013 @ 1130hrs.


Details | Free verse | |

Spirit

My spirit longs for the breeze that the summer brings
My spirit longs for the birds who fill the heavens with beautiful song
My spirit longs for the smell of the flowers
My spirit longs for the breeze that the summer brings

My spirit longs for the sunrise and sunset
My spirit longs for the sweet tea my grandmother has perfected
My spirit longs for the sweet taste of freedom that comes only from summer
My spirit longs for the breeze that the summer brings.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Jungle

                             Haiku Jungle

Snakes birds tangle wild

Under, brooks babble downward

Vegetation spring



Details | ABC | |

Blue Bird

Blue Bird

All alone inside of my magical little paradise called my mind is an peaceful and quiet, the sun is like a gentle kiss on the cheek, and the people are just so warm and friendly but watch out because if you open your eyes everything you once knew will be gone. This magical little realm has an bloody little twist to it. The sun that was once as comforting as an warm blanket was in fact the glistening moon and the empty black sky, and the people are now all blood thirsty monsters that are no longer affected by the sun light are now out for blood.

I run to escape the sickening but yet oh so enticing scent of blood and failure, I run to escape the screams of those who's lives were cut just too short, and I run to escape the sight of the undead, blood thirsty zombies who are on the hunt for others to join their group. I'm running, running to safety and security but all the time there's nothing but pit falls and traps. I'm running and success isn't that far away but just then I see prince charming I stop and become distracted by his promising words but just then he too becomes a monster. I scream and try to run but I just can't you trap me in fire and I can't escape. 

My mind goes numb, I can feel the darkness further enclose around me, my mind goes blank, and I forget about everything. On the inside I'm screaming, fighting, kicking to get away but on the outside I'm a love sick puppy. I know I'm stronger than this but there's something about you that I just can't get over. Just as the darkness seems to grow closer an light appears and an blue bird fights off my nightmare monster and takes me back to my snowy paradise where I'm safe and at peace and I continue my lonely dark and cold path to my brightly lite future with the little blue bird by my side reminding me that I am and will forever be loved by both my family, people who actually care about me, and god.


Details | I do not know? | |

Soulful Beginning

In a world full of illusion it can be hard to find,
Our lonely souls that we hide deep inside,
Almost impossible to tell what's fake from what's real,
Especially when your whole life you're told reality is something you feel,
Now, let's take a moment to think outside the box,
put down your phone, turn off the TV, ignore your clocks,
AN don't be offended this is all just a hunch,
but to me to feel doesn't mean to touch,
When you touch something physical it penetrates skin deep,
Now to feel it in your soul is something truly moving,
a feeling nearly impossible to explain,
but if I had to try Id say its the rainbow after the rain,
or the joy you feel when a child says they love you,
Like that person singing in their car that makes you want to sing too,
kinda like when your hands are full and a stranger holds the door,
seeing and elderly couple walking hand in hand with a love so pure,
If you stay true to you then you will awaken your soul,
That is when, as human, we become truly powerful.


Details | Rhyme | |

Flight of the Ptarmigan

Flight of the Ptarmigan
By Reg Rhodes



The Ptarmigan emerges from his snow nest; and takes flight. 
It's wings quietly fluttering; carrying him into the silent night.

He carries his message of inner peace on his angelic wings; shrouded in white. 
Illuminated by the full moon; his flying form shines bright.

Only those who can relate to his plight;
will observe this awe inspiring sight. 

I watched him appear from deep within the snow;
and followed the flight of the Ptarmigan;  pondering where he would go.                                                                                                                           

Far, far from his mountain home he flew.
Only to seek answers to the questions that he already knew. 

He couldn't adapt to the warm weather, noise or people; like the flatland brown Grouse.
Upon his return, he discovered that another white winged bird had come and stolen his snow covered house. 

He took flight once more, to a different side of the mountain;  to build a new and better high elevation nest. 
Once again, comfortable in his familiar surroundings; the Ptarmigan was rewarded with a much needed rest.  

The flight of the ptarmigan ended where it began; 
and he returned back to his high alpine home, once again.

Where God intended him to be. 
Where he can once again live happy, and be free.
 
Oh, beautiful ptarmigan; take me away.
And show me yet another wonderful day;
but, please never let me forget to seek Gods guidance whenever I pray.

Thankfully, my trip has ended; right where it began.
Like the Ptarmigan; I have returned home once again. 
.
I'm back up in the mountains; where God intended for me to be. 
Home; where my soul is complete, and once again free. 




















Details | Haiku | |

Multispecies Pride

A strutting peacock
Father watching her first steps
Universal pride


Details | Free verse | |

One Day in The Life

One day in the life,
    a bird sings, hallowed;
    a tree branch condescends.

A cat sees all, tempted by melodies sung in three-quarter time-- 
    those of holy offices whose praise-adorations
    from branch to branch fly.

Perfect time, perfect prolation give credence
    as saints preserve the wings way home.

One day, one day, one day in the life.





Note:  In Medieval music, perfect time/perfect prolation was indicated by a

Circle = three-quarter time = Divine/Trinity. (an early time signature)



Details | Rhyme | |

Wings of a Soul

Wings of a soul check up
on the
Gone from here for them to see
Perched up high upon a tree
Wings of a soul check up
on the
These souls of wing I do believe
swoon by at times while we
reminisce of the
Glimpse to the sky for one to see
Wings of a soul check up
on the 
Thoughts of lost loved ones pass
through our day, gazing out the 
window of what use to be
Maybe; just maybe next time
you’ll see, wings of a soul
checking up on the