“Departure of Birds” – 10-stanza Free Verse Poem – 8.6.2022

If heavens held,
in supported wings,
for passion’s melt.
If eyes were skyward,
words were forward,
sentences were clear
without storms.

I had taken to you,
before rocks had fallen.
Ice, with hearts
that sunk with ships.
A love, gone overboard,
burying our skies,
thumping to a faint rhythm,
thundering with a distant sound
where our storm moves on
with its gathered gray.

Speaking in a sequence,
trembling before those cold
windows, that were open.
Freedom kept bleeding
a breath, towards us.

Blue had soon
all its color,
among a blanketing sky.
Wings were frail,
words trailed, under our
weathered feet. We threw hours
to drenched winds. In those
divided minutes, we were
tempted to be silent.

We viewed a distorted complexion
where two birds are forced
to burn their path, through mirrors,
to take flight into fright,
to see truth clinging from a noose,
while hands are held,
inside a melting cage.

We gathered gray
to go on, in our dismay.
Love had lit a fuse
to burn us through,
in this misuse.

Tormented, down to surrender,
while plentiful, while together
as ashes, in wake of our
mirthful, insane spirits.

Contented, to be forever
departed from ever
remaining whole, without contrast
from life that never lasts.

Count our sparks, from afar,
when you will drift, upon a time
you turn towards another door
that I never explored.
Whenever you go,
wherever you will flow,
whenever you show
that your pain has more
to know, tell that other scenery
to never snow.

Memories will rebound,
from those sounds,
these words we burned into
faded, shaded contours.
Shapes, now without
a completeness.

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