The birds take flight / and we dream of air.
They give spirited wonder and lift / to our hope and song.
We here spread the wings / of our imaginations’ span.
And so, upon this world, we are / to accept our walk and listening ways.
And so, in the wear of our fright and dreams, / we stand upon the living expand of soul.
While the limits of our ground hold on / to us with the tendering of gravity.
And here upon the core of belonging, our nevermore and evermore reaching still distills our blind faith.
To be, become, and too embrace / the bodies we form as religions.
Beliefs which become, / and hence form the shape of how we hear, fear, and respond; exercise.
Responding to what we defend / in the ever returning when-of-all of our constant unknown frontiers.
So with our behaviors / we do dance into mystery’s hold over time, over war, over peace.
When in the evenings of a mindset’s day, whereupon the end of things, we interpret belief; we rest.
Yet again, and ever, our egos rise & fall like holding on, / belonging to identity, knowing, and dream.
And dreams do take flight / into the air where sharing cannot part.
Yet upon this world, at pride’s precipice, we collect our needs / to divide fears’ safety.
And here kill with a just hate / to keep them apart.
Make good of an enemy bad with the use of a frightened love so rightly justified.
And away we go / into the rust of our species.
We are here / in the gift of we may heal the wounds of our walking echoes.
Our homeward ways fall forward /
To somehow near backwardly rise…
Defining the present way of the heart renewed by human lessons breathing.
Us, and all life, / will come into the wake of our commons; our Sleep & Death comedians.
Our relationship to every feathered moment of time watches the birds.
Our thumbs pressed soundly over the apocalypse of our lips.
Our lips of nevermore listening to lessons living and giving us the teach.
The teach we have forgotten to ever-earn and share with.
Being the receivers of life gives.
© Copyright 12/21/2008, 12/24/2008, 3/3/2009 C.C. Arshagra
Dedicated to Mariam Muradain’s Daughter, the daughter of my soul’s give, Lydia Muradian Leach.
Inspired by submission request RedBubble.com member ’Ushna Sardar":http://www.redbubble.com/people/ushna to her newly formed group C.O.R.E.