Feather of a Rainbird

Pitter patter comes the sound of the rainbird

Landing upon your porch and roof and sidewalk

Splish splash their wings taking off heard

Only to perch a few seconds away to taunt and mock

What is this contradictory creature

Untamed by any intruder?

No tangible scales, hair, or fur

These feather light touches are even falser

This bird come here and again

Migrates with the wind and breeze

Clouds are their homes at every bend

Shifting and morphing with such ease

Why do they carry such sounds of sorrow?

I cannot answer because I know not the trill

I only hear the cheery pitter patter and chilly blow

Of wind that brought them near my windowsill

Why do they come during the gloomiest of grays?

I would not be certain as I watch only their flight and descent

Accompanied with a splish splash and feathered spray

That never seems to get neither damaged nor bent

In my hand, I try to lift a gentle feather

But with me it cannot seem to stay

Out of my hand, it continues to flutter

To meet with its companions til the arrival of rays

So adaptive to the minds and ambiances

Environments, habitats, and realities it creates

Real is only what it is and becomes as it dances

And the swirls of color and lack of it baits

The symphony and silky feather touch lure

But run your hands through and it’ll keep steady path

Trickle, drip, drop, flood – always part pure

So light and trance fulfilling, yet pounding full of wrath

A feather of a rainbird like any feather

Tickles soft and lands with an unmatchable flow

But is a pound of feathers to a pound of rocks any lighter?

Time to meet your rainbird and let your pattern show

Torpedo

Birdless skies cloudy and grey

Until a single torpedo flits past

One lone sparrow darting above

Cutting through the heavens

Wings moving flutter fast

Suddenly pressed tight close

Shooting through the air bullet brave

Slicing through air smooth as water

Out of the twigs and leaves

Away from the feather padding

No more regurgitation

Goodbye feeding

Pushed and shoved

Prodded and snipped

Tough love and what has to be done

Hard as it is, it is inevitable

And the image in mind

Morphs externally

But captures the true soul,

The real life struggles and cycle

Of all life

Of not only the flocks of birds

Of not simply humanity

Of an often incomplete group

Animals branch out

Down lines of ancestral roots

Sprouting buds of floral décor

Growing fruit amongst the leafy green

Becoming diverse and unique

Aligned through a common point

Invisible to the naked eye

Solid to the mental scope

Pushing through each day, facing each blow

Looking towards the newer

Looking back to the familiar

Pushing out the nest, facing nothing but now