I want the peace that passeth all understanding
I watch the doves perched outside my door
The sparrows come and go and come again
While the doves sit perched outside my door
I see my reflection through the glass darkly
A macabre grin eating away any calm
The flesh disappears into that darkness
While my macabre grin eats away any calm
I walk this way in solitude and deluge
Prepared to reach outward and within
The dark glass can be shattered if I permit it
And let myself reach outward and within
Fragmenting glass rouses the doves from their dreaming
They fly off on wings charged with purpose
Feeling lighter of soul than I’ve felt in days
I watch them fly off on wings charged with purpose.
This is a Magpie Tale. Please go here to read other tales.
bug, this is gorgeous...i really like it...and you really bring those doves alive..wings with purpose...smiles.
ReplyDeletethis is beautiful, I love that the dark glass can be broken and a purpose can emerge, can fly...same can be said of dreams, hopes, so many things. Lovely!
ReplyDeleteWhen do you say doves and when pigeons, I have always wondered? We have them in our trees, too, and I like their sounds. You made a beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteA clever response to the prompt.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteAngela: These are American Mourning Doves, so named for the mournful sound they make. They are a distant cousin to the African Mourning Dove. They are also called Turtle Doves, and in the past were known as Carolina Pigeons. They are thought to be the most closely related species to the extinct Passenger Pigeon, interestingly enough. Doves and pigeons are from the bird family Columbidae, and in general use, one may think of doves as the smaller members of this family and pigeons the larger, although this is not absolute.
I really love this one. Just wonderful.
ReplyDeleteyou're pretty darn good at this.
ReplyDeleteThis is so well written, I love the idea of permitting the dark glass to be shattered, a great image.
ReplyDeleteLove the repetition in your Magpie ... beautifully composed.
ReplyDeleteA good saint indeed, one to be trusted..lovely poem..
ReplyDeleteDear Mr. Linthead, what a lovely and long explanation! (You are NOT called Carolina I assume? It is the state?) I was never sure about this, but I thought one was perhaps the poetic one (the white dove), and one the working kind (carrier pigeon), but so it is mostly about size. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
What everyone else said! And a bus wreck? Eek! Trauma skids into the brush along with the bus. Hope all are recovering and progressing nicely. It certainly sounds like you are!
ReplyDeleteDark and lovely. I'm glad it brightened at the end.
ReplyDeleteelegant.
ReplyDeleteThe search for peace gathers many together..
ReplyDeleteThis is a lovely, sensitive meditation on our life, Dana, how we have to balance the outward looking with the inward reflection.
ReplyDeleteSolid, relatable poem.
ReplyDelete