Higher Poem by JAMES T. ADAIR

Higher



The owl hoots
as the morning dove flaps her wings
and lands upon a shaking wire
Her partner lands beside her and she leaps to the air...
higher!
To the ridge of a gingerbread house of powder blue
with white dental work trim and scalloped shakes
and white shutters too
Two other songbirds in the distance chirp their songs
a grey squirrel hops to the beat toward stage left
like Phillipe Petit, upon a thick black telephone wire
but two passing wrens swoop upon him and he darts out of view
as if he's just been singed with fire
a cold wind blows across my cheek and down my collar
and I shiver and step into the sun and straighten up; taller
and the sun seems to warm me inside and I feel a child awaken inside
that I lost long ago...
I have no sense of tomrrow and nowhere yet to go
but this Easter morning I feel a little spark of fire
I know the long sadness is breaking
I've changed and yet have returned to me
shedding the hurt of dreams not meant to be
and now I feel some sense of wonder returning I didn't see in the rain
Overtaking the sadness and hearbreak of all that was in vain
that has bound me time and again from a sense of free desire
to be what I might be
to move higher...
I look to the sky of blue
and wonder for a moment what I'm meant to be



© James T. Adair

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