Mad Feathers

[Guest guest]

We awaken, only to find

we have awoken in an

insane aviary.

 

If you speak to a feathery inmate,

they will twerp and tweet that you,

my Dear, are the lunatic fowl, and

they the normal bird.

 

The bird of mind flies

here and there until

snatched in the talons of

the hawk of Love.

 

Death is inevitable –

nothing remains but feathers,

adrift on the breath of God.

 

Sometimes one can observe sparrows,

darting and pecking at hawks in the air –

 

seems crazy, eh?

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b