For Seth Pina's Venting Or Redemption Poetry Contest
Oh, beautiful birds, in my youth, I released you to bluer skies with hopes high. You were my longings in flight before my wishing time sadly subsided. Some of you returned to visit me as I slumbered deep into nights of unrequited dreams. Others of you flew far beyond any horizons where I might ever find you. A few of you, like the blue bird and robin, warbled in my ear from time to time, but short were those visits to me. Oh, dear birds of my youth’s hopes and dreams, where have you all gone as my days grow shorter? If I strive to listen, sometimes I can almost catch the sound of your pretty songs. At my door today, I can almost imagine the caw of ravens that in my youth I never dared to dream of.
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