There is beauty in the wounded bird
Shimmering with bright, red blood
Essence dripping into theĀ ocean
Majesty in an off-kilter flight
Fading life mixing with a deep, blue sea
It is this creature’s swan song
And it is as moving as any orchestra
No horns need announce it
No strings to add texture
And no drums to shake the earth
Falling from grace seems so wrong
But this bird is returning its gift
It made no error in it’s flight
And yet it is falling from so high up
It only needs to dive to tug at one’s heartstrings