Buildin' Birds

Buildin’ Birds… Your hands dart and weave In, out, up.. then hover Swoop right… then left As simply as sight Of a birds dreamy flight Floating to perch proud on rocky cleft Subtle magic’s paint Concept, thought to Action Life wrought from death As eloquently as the Master Reaches out from the hereafter And grants the unborn gift of breath Chaos now cornered Seeks out surge, hands direct And collar by will And just as Angels acting So precise, measured, and exacting Leave scarce a ripple on waters still Trumpet Grande Crescendo Labors love ushered in A diamond from primal smolder A new winged gift to grace us Snatched still in pristine stasis To soar in the eye of the beholder (Narrative) I wrote this poem after peeping through the doorway of my wife Nancy’s workspace as she crafted her beautiful bird sculptures. I was utterly amazed at the delicate movements she so gracefully employed to wring creations that seemed to capture a split second of nature so completely as to cause the beholder the illusion that she had somehow stopped time. Literally, a hummingbird caught between the beats of its wing for one to marvel at. Of all Nancy’s creative endeavors I still rank her “Buildin’ Birds” as her paramount artistic endeavor.