Posted by: helens22 | March 3, 2011

Little Bird

Hello! Hello! Hello! I fly quite close to you to get your attention. To you it sounds like, “cheep, cheep, cheep.” But… you do notice, because I’ve come just a bit closer to you than a wild bird should, landing a few feet away from your feet on this gray winter afternoon. I see the even darker gray clouds that cover your frozen heart—the heart you think will not know spring again.

Hello! Hello! Hello! Look here—I’ve flown to perch on a branch nearby you, just a little up and to your left. “Cheep, cheep, cheep” you hear, but you do take notice and somehow feel my friendly concern. You sit almost motionless on a dry wooden walkway, huddled in your winter coat, your booted feet in the snow.

I take up my post. I stop my greeting song, not wanting to disturb you in your quietness. I can feel you feeling my presence. I stay and stay and stay. I know how to fluff my feathers to sit in a wintery wind. No one else of my kind nearby, you find it odd that I’m still here—so still—but you finally start to feel—yes!—that I am here for you, maybe just for you. Why else would I stay? You watch my wind-ruffled feathers, my small, brave profile. You marvel at my steadfastness. You send me a silent thank you from your troubled heart.

Yet suddenly you leave. And though you’ve heard the gurgling of melting water beneath your feet, you haven’t given me enough time to melt the ice in your heart. I so wanted  your heart to start singing a melting song, but you left—still sad, still hard, still frozen. And you went, I know not where, but I fear for you.

I wait and wait and wait, but you don’t come back. Sadly, I fly off when I finally feel there is no chance you will return.

All I can hope is that the memory of me will work in time-delay
to warm your heart,
to start the melting song within you,
to bring you hope again.

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Responses

  1. Yes….Thank you…


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