Whooshing and whirring,
It’s the clouds dripping onto my feathers,
Seeping into my soul
Warning its hypnotized bliss;
Waxing into creases of a new dawn.
And no more do I need feathers
Or a crown of flowers;
Only my wings suffice.
You frolic like a child,
At the notion of infusing iridescence
Into my bones,
When all I ask for is the candescence
Yet, it took not a blink for you
To brim ebony into my hollow bones.
You take flight
A glowing bird of the night
Drowning is the sky in majestic hues of sapphire
Wings dropping feathers as you dance through the hours
Whooshing and whirring
© Sharada Sivaraman, Kelly Klein
Excerpt from the book Fire and Ice
Fire And Ice ~ An Anthology of Collaborations
Fire and Ice is a collection of connections based on perceptions. It is person after person, reading, relating, and then reaching out to others through words.
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