On Broken String
A poem for: the lift in letting go.
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On Broken String
by Kristine Neeley
Fire-breasted Robins quarrel
under canopy of Grackle,
speak sharp and alien,
the language of birds.
Song Sparrow, sprite and true,
flits easily between thin,
wind-whipped branches,
unburdened by plight.
Aloft in vast, azure frame,
paper feather, familiar
in diamond form, from hands
has slipped into sky.
Towards celestine clouds
it lifts gaze of all, who is
only me and the child
which now understands.
Words, like wings, fight and fly,
before, at our bidding,
must now learn to live
on broken string.
May we all find the freedom that comes in loosening our grip.
Blessings,
I am here, for, this!
Your poetry has long been a treasure to read, in the monthly glimpses you shared over in the great beyond. Thank you for bringing it here, too.
Can’t wait for more ♥️
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