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
Copyright © Julie Cottingham | Year Posted 2012
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