A Bird With A broken Wing

Written by: anne p. murray

                                                                     *~*

I sit -looking at the river gracefully bending
   Flowing smoothly over moss covered rocks and stones
Measuring in endless time -my life
   My loves, my losses
Posing my thoughts with unspoken words
   Just me and the river...
Sitting all alone 

   I cry- my whetted, salty tears
Like the river weeping her warm liquid waves
   Showering the earth with her promising shades of life
Breathing her liquid grace over all the lands she saves?
   Yet…
I could not save us

My hungry heart hides my tears as I breathe in your image
   Calling your name -whispering our story
And all the tender moments 
   Of our once remembered glory 

With my thoughts softly weaving their dreams
   I trace the memories of the sweetest fruit from the vine
Painting vivid pictures of warm candlelight and roses
   That turned into a sad, bitter tasting wine 

My grieving spirit hides the breeze that softly blows
   Whispering in its low, hushed voice
My sad, lonely story…
   That only I and the river know
Hiding my shattered heart
    A bird...
With a broken wing

                                                                *~*