Birds vs. Buildings
There are two types of poems birthed to light,
A crafted sort, built like a home.
Refined structure, foundation, detail,
Blueprints to marvel at.
Consultants of the highest caliber reviewed the plans,
And they went to town, all pieces changed.
Balconies facing East, will now face West,
The glass ceiling with a rooftop terrace,
Each tile and ornament chosen like a science,
With neurosurgeon's precision, dancer’s balance.
The other poem arrives without warning,
Flutters effortlessly much like a feather in the wind,
It lands into your hand, and then another,
Until a precious bird takes form,
Which direction did it come from?
Will there be another, will it return?
And just like that,
A hummingbird of emerald,
Sometimes a crow revealing darkest tales,
A darling dove detailing deepest wisdom,
A sparrow singing songs of spring.
If sent your way,
Greet gently birds of knowledge,
And draw its features on a page,
Don’t worry if people don’t believe you,
That just like this, the birds came forth today.
When winter comes, the birds stop coming,
You put your drawing pencil far away,
You know the season’s changing when a feather,
Effortlessly sails with the breeze,
Delivering to you awaited keys.
Draw, please.
