Where Seagulls Fly
My home lies under a path
Where seagulls fly.
Standing in my high kitchen window
With no shutters, shades or curtains,
I see them,
White feathers brilliant in the sun
As they glide over,
Some seemingly on a quest,
Some simply enjoying the feeling
Of being able to soar.
It is no accident that I live here,
For we both share the same spirit
Of a wild bird,
With the same need to feel
Air rushing beneath our wings,
To be unhindered by
Things bound to the Earth,
To follow with trust
The clear path provided
By the Universe
That leads us to our destiny,
A path only we can see
Standing in my high kitchen window,
I soar with them.
Copyright © Sandra J. Spring | Year Posted 2011
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