When Words are Truly Free

"One Day I'll Fly Away"  Photography by Hayley Richards

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Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 66
Come join us!

Some birds are poets and sing all summer. ~Henry David 

Once my words were caged

Strangled by silence

Like a shy child

They lingered close

In quiet spaces

Whispering in my ear

where no one else would hear

But with time they grew

And so did I

Old cages get rusty

but old birds still fly

now the silence is stifled by words

they reach far places

like migrating birds.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Swift Bird

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Time is an old firmly rooted tree; we are the breeze rustling its leaves.
 ~Terri Guillemets

Time is a prudent yet swift bird
 that we all truly long to catch.
Though the feathers that it flies with
 carry it ever further beyond our grasp.
We rush awkwardly forward
as it touches back down upon a branch
and we reach out in a hurry
but still with a backward glance.
For no nets nor loaded guns
can catch this bird in hovered flight.
It tarries not for no beast nor human
as it takes each hour soft within the night.



Linking with dVerse for Mary's prompt "Time"