Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Birds That Are Blue

The blue jay has perched.
I wear it on my sleeve
Like a heart, elusive
Here and there it flits
Looking for acorns
To fill up the knothole.
Up in smoke
Down they roll
Never filling.
But if only one takes root
This logged cabin is coming down.



From the land of memory
I made the journey long ago
And remember only the veiled Joys
Whom men do not yet know.

And were I nimble now as the
Happiness of Running Barefoot in the Dew
I would not catch the bluest birds
Not here and
Not where the black bird turned blue.

Blue Bird of Happiness