Things With Wings
As fragile as our heartbeat-so too are the Sparrows
Bathed softly by the Springtide breeze
Spectators of the bucholic of Mother Nature
Perched upon stenciled branches of old oak trees;
Cocooned into their very own kingdom
Where the honeysuckle grows wild and free
Their melodious song breaks open the silence
As the day carries along sweet destiny;
The catapillar leaves its shelter
It's metamorphosis very soon
Minutes tick off in sweet surrender
As morning unties it's way to noon;
Butterflies appear as if by magic
An experience unraveling into a greater thread
Velvety-silken wings-of deep orange and black
Voila, the Monarch's emerge, raising their sleepy heads!
poem by Theodora Onken
Added by Poetry Lover
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