The Glass Bird

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They say to write, you must hold something within you
Something larger then your hopes and dreams
Your fears and worries
In my hand
I hold a bird of glass
The wings so fragile and delicate
As if spun from the air it flies
The feathers of sunset
are cool within my grasp
Outspread are the wishes of flight
Held within the glass bird's light
I hold it so it may not break
With the pain of the outside world
That lies heavy upon my soul
The spirit warms me
and I hold my dreams of glass
tightly against my heart.





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