Sunday, August 21, 2011

Poem #539

They Ask Why

I stand up tall and reach toward the sky,
Watching the clouds as they soar by.
Under the shade of the trees, I try,
To imagine what resides there, up high.

And the birds, in their songs, they ask why,
Why should anyone not wish to take off and fly?

Their musical phrases feel like some sort of test,
One in which we all race to be better than best,
And now, in this tangle, no one will have guessed,
That this chaos would never provide us with rest.

And the birds, in their songs, they ask why,
Why should anyone not wish to take off and fly?

In the life we all live in this world so vast,
Each and every day flies by so fast,
And we barely acknowledge that time has passed.
We’re not sure how to make each moment last.

And the birds, in their songs, they ask why,
Why should anyone not wish to take off and fly?

I close my eyes, let darkness fall,
Bringing in that end-of-day pall,
Mind wandering, thinking back on it all,
And I listen, again, to those birds call.

And the birds, in their songs, pull me into the sky,
Singing, this is why we all should fly.

1 comment:

  1. I love this poem
    I am reading it with a rhythm - it would be a great song!

    My best Helen

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