For NaPoWriMo Day 24: my own prompt again.
Credit: Coral Birds Pinterest
There was a bird coral flushed, torn in the Red Sea waves,
And she floated in the healing, until her wings were drenched in mineral salts.
She preened on a rock, wings coated in salt-dust;
But, one day a storm raged and she was drenched in the mud.
The healing earth, and brokenness beneath meant nothing.
Rain washed, and she spread her plush coral feathers — lunged for the sky;
The salt and mud weighed, not much had fallen-smooth away.
But, she flew anyways — some birds fly despite;
They rise, even if you hold them down;
If you clip their wings, their feathers still grow rapid.
If you hear not a squawk, don’t be surprised if you do — she talks, no moment is right, but there’s reasons beneath silence.
It takes time to soar weighted by sludge, to balance weights on your wings;
But she’s flying and she’s okay, she might send a squawk your way —
Depends if you’re a bird person, or weighted to cement delusions.
She might squawk, or she might fly onto the tangerine sunset,
Where the saltless waters are clean, and her wingspan for a moment’s graceful.
©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.