The Soul Is a Bird

Flutter of a small heartwing, threaded like a hummingbird.
Do alight on me, Spirit, a motion so minute as to appear still in its beating.
I want to settle this striving once and for all,
wearied am I from the constant battering against the bars.

This is the lesson: a smoothing happens in accepting captivity.
Only the quietened bird opens the ribcage from within
and, with new feathers, begins the real flying.


View the painting that inspired the poem. 

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