Where The Small Bird Waited

Where The Small Bird Waited

It sat among the branches, where the berries softly grew,

A flicker made of warmth and flame, against a softened view,

The leaves leaned in to hold it, the air refused to rush,

As if the world around it, had chosen now to hush.

Its feathers held a fire, not burning but alive,

A steady glow of presence, the simple act to thrive,

No grand and sweeping motion, no need to loudly prove,

Just balance on a branch, in quiet, certain groove.

I watched it without speaking, afraid to break the thread,

That tied me to that moment, by something gently said,

Not words but understanding, that passed without a sound,

A truth that did not wander, but chose that place it found.

The berries shone like small hearts, untouched by any hand,

A promise of continuation, I could not command,

And still that bird remained there, not asking to be known,

Content within its being, completely on its own.

There is a kind of beauty, that does not chase the eye,

It settles in the stillness, and lets the hours go by,

It does not beg for meaning, nor fear the passing day,

It simply holds its moment, then softly slips away.

And when at last it lifted, and vanished into air,

It left no trace behind it, yet something lingered there,

A calm I cannot measure, a peace I cannot keep,

A quiet gift of presence, that settles somewhere deep.

#Marie381UkWrites #www #viral #poetrymagazines #facebook #twitter #instergrampoets #vocalmedia #poetrycommunity #deepwords #artpoetry #birdpoetry #soulwriting #quietpower #inkandthought #wildbirds