THE BIRD THAT STOLE THE WIND

THE BIRD THAT STOLE THE WIND

I saw a strange red bird today,
It floated through my mind,
It wore a coat of scarlet red
And carried off the wind.

The sky went round in circles,
The leaves forgot the trees,
And something soft came whispering
Upon a crimson breeze.

It had no proper name at all,
No place that it belonged,
Yet every time it looked at me
I heard a distant song.

It gathered up my memories,
And tucked them underneath,
Then swept across the coloured sky
With wild leaves at its feet.

I asked it where it came from,
It pointed far away,
To somewhere dreams are wide awake
And night becomes the day.

It stole the wind around me,
Then gave me back the rain,
And whispered, “Keep the madness,
It sometimes eases pain.”

So now it lives inside my art,
Where ordinary ends,
A scarlet bird with secret wings,
Where dreams and colour blend.

And if you see it passing,
Don’t ask it where it’s been,
Just let it steal your little world
And paint your thoughts unseen.