We sit, looking at the rain-kissed sky

The train whistle in the distance

A resort is full of people

taking care of it,

loving the land.

Then, raptors

 

And the bird lady

Married to her birds,

Teaching, but her words are full of regret and resentment

Why did she hide so long

Only, like a burrowing owl,

to come out and realize, it is too late,

Too late for children

Bitter pride, an aftertaste of regret.

 

Acquaintance with and acceptance of one’s own intelligence.

Sharing dreams and attempts of creative endeavors.

Knowing the reception will be one of honest curiosity and excitement.

Separation from influences which see you as less and the gifts that brings.

Showing one keys to vehicles, waiting to be tested.

Opening the path of learning, so far beyond school.

Three stories in the sky looking at the faces of the trees.

Hearing the whispers of nature and the murmurs of our realm.

Voices, words, tones, falling through the air, landing, sometimes.

 

Hopes dashed

falling into the inky blackness

swim, don’t drown

float in the darkness

dive if you dare

there’s light down there

stroke, sink, hold your breath

go, don’t think, carry through

out, come out

the other side is bright

but you must fight

fight the urge to let go

and sink into the ink.