The Wandering Bird.

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Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Before Reading The Poem.

Oh’ I wondered about a wandering bird,
Who don’t belong among the migrating flocks.
He crieth not nor he stay far from others,
Ah’ somewhere in the depth of his eyes I see,
A shattered dream, lifeless, in drowned pain.

The long lost Sun found his ways back up North,
The thawing winter brought new life across the plains,
As life sprouted bit by bit all around so ached more,
The shattered dream, Oh’ now a faceless fabrication.
Along the flocks back up North silently he flew.

Though the winds warmed, rains fallen, trees hesitated,
So upon a bare naked branch he sat, listening,
To the falling dew as far away in the East the Sun sprouted,
Oh’ up at the sky he looked as if in prayers he nodded,
Then into the depths of the Spring storm he flew.

Rain drops dripped from the covering hood,
As aimless, away from naked trees I walked,
Ah’ pieces of a shattered dream from the soul screamed,
Onlookers passed by, frowning, Oh’ my meaning I defined,
Only for one soul and the bird symbolized my soul.

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