The Bird of Imagining

By Richard Lewis

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before.

A bird whose feathers caught the colors

of light shining through them,

so that each feather

reflected the hues of all the days

and all the nights.

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before.

A bird whose eyes could feel the time

of what had been and what will be -

and feeling the life of all this time,

could see inside and outside of what it saw.

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before.

A bird whose wings gathered the air around them,

filling the weight of those wings with the breathing of ........creatures,

listening, in suspense, to other sounds.

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before.

A bird whose voices were the words of dreams,

changing into the songs that brought the stars closer,

so they could have the warmth of their singing nearby.

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before,

and it was - ourselves,

ready to be in the sky of our thoughts,

 

to be the dreaming of our night into day,

to be the speaking of our words into song,

to be the feet of our dance, to be the music of our play.

 

There was a bird no one had ever seen before,

and it flew -

and nothing,

and no one,

was ever the same afterwards ...

 

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