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Sunday, August 14, 2016

Panic Bird

Oh panic bird, do come to me.

Convulse me into feeling.

Flap into my bones

and ignite me to life.

Galvanize my soul to awareness

with your glare,

for you are what I need

to jump-start the heart of me.

 

Others see you as a bad thing,

but in my perversity I welcome you.

Drop right down, you panic bird.

From the sky descend to tree or pole

and thence to me.

The sparks will fly.

The blood will boil.

I will feel your claws

and smell your brimstone

and accept it all as a means to the end:

a transformation from the depths.

I will be born again.

 

 
Copyright © 2016 Ann Tudor
Blog1: http://www.fastandfearlesscooking.com
 
 

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