To Little Bird

來自專欄 浪人余火

dear little bird,

I left, it was dark, you were in dream

what was seen there, I wondered for many centuries

could be something ordinary, or extraordinary

my child, you know things others ignore

live them, and make up your own lore

in this forest, youre envied - I think it is cute.

ask the stars

mother is on vacation

when you grow a little more, one will let you know

you have to teach yourself, others are not worth asking for, no more

you wake up, look at the world

must know that your existence is as real

spring and summer saturate, winters will be empty

big things hide in small ways

many are gone like never, dragons dont live forever

it is autumn you see leaves dangle

thats when little birds leave their nest

time is short and cruel, it is all true and real

do not mind the squirrels, they get bored for what they got

their closet full and dangerous, they dont know whats left to do

my child, life is not acquired, only lived

listen to the trees mumble, they have secrets we too could know

remember it is not about the sword

it is about something good.

night forest, whispers autumns evil, then

worlds fairies put on their black jacket

fly anyway though, understand speed is winds lure

the heart is more important

calm your wings and let earth gently know, not any way around

that is what mother always told

it is all true and real.

little bird, however the world be complicated, silly

it is always wonderful, even our pain would agree

stars and rains live in one sky, bright and dark are the same side

everything is its opposite, but only one is just

things become in a long go, unlike many told friend or foe, only few pays attention

when they do the world is silent, a million sounds dont matter

words are null and void, for they part and fall, afar from the root

where lifes many ways come, many ways may enter

your father has something to do

to tender, the land of two worlds - mundanely flew low

with stories forbidden to be told

my child, when you grow, find the angry rivers and insects

fires, gardens, villages

feathers of our chest are right, when each touches the dirt,

be true to a ravens soul, hard and wounded

you are from the dark side, but one day all will be yours to heal.

now sleep

when I left, it is dark, I will soon forget

youre there on days wake, thats all important to me

farewell, child

- yours, old bird