I’m flying up, against gravity’s undertow Higher than all the birds I know Above white clouds full of snow
My wings are made of steel and bone And within this long underbelly I am not alone As we burst through the wind’s vibration zone Then out of the blue I am handed an ice cream cone
Today, we gave ourselves a ‘Test Flight’ to the Cafe to see if my wings had recovered, and pleasingly, we navigated the outing without any major incidents.
Today’s Test Flight
Flying solo above the trees Fluttering through the Bon Voyage clouds
Zipping over the nearby You Yangs Out into the Southern Aurora sky
Then, across the world’s deepest ocean Toward my dream’s mystical horizon
This is how my poem looks on my Instagram Site (ivors20)
This morning on my walkie with Frankie, I was lucky enough to photograph a ‘Welcome Swallow’ in flight. So, appropriately, today’s Throwback Friday poem is “Birds in Flight”, written in February 2023. The poem also appears in my book, ‘Until Eyes Hear Sound’ (Chapter 1, page 14)
Birds in Flight
Our spirit birds sleep all night Then emanate at first light To resume their dedicated flights
Our watchtower sentinels of Mother Earth Who sacredly ascend at first light Forever in flight, since nature’s worldly birth
After falling through the fragmented cloud, the rusty and weary traveller appeared to be disoriented, without his familiar protective shroud. Escaping his country has been hazardous, and he longs for a restful shelter.
However, until the stampede’s contaminated dust is devoured by its own mistrust-
then, and only then, will the Almighty Sun incinerate the lingering clouds and allow the world’s war-torn sky to redeem his sacred ground.