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.
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.
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.