all is still
my hands are raised in prayer
my face turned up to the heavens.
that is when i see them
almost gliding
through the crisp morning air
painting their black silhouettes
across the vast expanse
of the blue above.
and just as soon as they appeared
the flock of migrating birds
are gone
leaving behind an indescribable
lightness in my heart
like a promise of hope.
i wonder
if everything has to spelled out across the sky
in big bold letters
or great flapping wings
to find that one line of freedom
inscribed in your soul.
my hands are raised in prayer
my face turned up to the heavens.
that is when i see them
almost gliding
through the crisp morning air
painting their black silhouettes
across the vast expanse
of the blue above.
and just as soon as they appeared
the flock of migrating birds
are gone
leaving behind an indescribable
lightness in my heart
like a promise of hope.
i wonder
if everything has to spelled out across the sky
in big bold letters
or great flapping wings
to find that one line of freedom
inscribed in your soul.
6 comments:
Breathless with wonder over your words and insights here, Kanama :o) ((HUGS))
beautiful shot to go with your beautiful words
I don't think so. I think that line of freedom is etched all around us.
I like this picture, and your story too.
Wish you all the best...
I always wonder if the birds chat with each other as they soar above the earth...and what they say about the humans below!
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