Count
the shades of green.
Consider —
shifts of light,
and breeze-stirred
leaves…
Count again.
Again.
Until birdsong fills
that over-muscled organ
secured beneath
protective ribs.
Until the memory
surfaces —
This
is
the way.
— C.Birde, 6/18
Prepare
a path for Spring.
Ring all
the little bells
and greenling chimes
that She
might linger
— bloom and linger —
in the unfixed
margins
of spirit,
heart and
mind.
— C.Birde, 3/18
Void.
Expanse.
Boundless field of dark – inky, plush, coal-black. Pressed against eyelids. Consuming vision.
Light pricks — winks and blinks and scintillates. Golden, glittering. A multiplicity of individual, shivering stars within and against the dark — entering breath and pores, veins and mind.
Carry it.
Upon waking, carry it from dream, out into the world. Feed it to every word, every thought and action. Let it bloom in outstretched hands, shape tongue’s speech, heart’s beat.
Then everything,
— everything –
will shift…
Change…
Heal…
— C.Birde, 3/18
They lift on wings
that creak and sing
in equal parts.
Harmony of fear
trapped in
slender throats.
Unease released
upon still
morning air.
Broken,
shattered,
that fragile peace.
Accident of time,
language,
species.
— C.Birde, 3/18
Pin hope
elsewhere.
I am no mountain,
meant to bear such weight
of expectation.
I am breeze and stream and
Springtide —
transient,
unfixed,
elusory.
Pushed and pulled
by love and longing,
cruelty and kindness.
Pin no hope on
me.
See
to your own
heart’s
work.
— C.birde, 2/18
We
are all…
All we are
combined,
defined
by little more
than errant thought
and impulse
wrapped in organs,
tissue thin.
Are we all
we all
are
?
— C.Birde, 2/18
Lost.
Forgotten.
Waiting
— like the self —
to be
found.
— C.Birde, 2/18
To those
of timid nature —
kind-hearted,
gentle-souled
apart —
who inch along the perimeter
between here and there,
just beyond the warmth
of belonging…
wondering…
I hear you.
I see you.
Our hearts beat
the same
a n x i o u s
rhythm.
— C.Birde, 1/18
May we
invite Love to
saturate all we do;
to light our way when we stumble,
stray.
— C.Birde, 12/17
Dark
chews,
gnaws,
swallows day,
minute by hour,
bit by
bit by
bite,
and, in so doing,
clears the path
for Winter,
marks a
return
to light.
— C.Birde, 12/17