Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Born are Wings

I thought of this poem as I was taking a short walk tonight. I'm not entirely happy with the title but that's the best I could come up with for right now. Hope you each enjoy!
Born are Wings
It flexes
to unshape its bend,
curled over in the morning
of a dawn's waking hour.
scarlets of colors flood
its breath, as the lungs ache
in its wantings.
A beat,
bleating on the winds sound-
the woosh of strong movements
made from the wings of
a creature unknowing,
stirring awake the soul
placed within.
Naked cold air slips
from its capture
as legs unsteady and unused
brace to stand.
Earth has long been bereft
to see such a sight,
its aura too bright to see...
a strong lovely unique creature,
A birth that soon will learn to be.

5 comments:

lakeviewer said...

Poor little bird, all alone to conquer its flight.

Brosreview said...

I love the lines! Now, about the title, I like it as it is not "usual" or "ordinary". But, that is just me! Keep writing!!!

findingmywingsinlife said...

Lakeviewer,
I went back to read this poem after reading your comment. I hadn't realized how much like the birth of a bird's flight this spoke of. When I wrote it, I was envisioning something more ethereal. Thank you for giving me something to ponder on!
Brosreview,
Glad you liked it! And glad you liked the title, I was definitely going for unordinary and unusual, but I also wanted to stay away from other names that would potentially "pidgeon-hole" the meaning behind it. I wanted it to encompass more than traditional ideas and thoughts.

The Write Girl said...

This is a beautiful and poignant poem...thanks for checking out my site. You have a lot of talent in poetry and writing: )

findingmywingsinlife said...

The Write Girl,
Thanks for coming by as well! I'm glad you liked the poem and you're welcome to stop by here anytime!