A Blackbird
alone in a forest of vague, unsure loneliness
I hear the fluting call of a shy yet forceful bird
Young and diligently sewing together its nest
Taking pieces from a previously broken lost home
the young blackbird sat quietly when I came to sight
Skin and bones, but beautiful in its strength, dignity
I call to it with my fingers and my hands stretched out
I wish to feed her and to care for her till she is strong
No longer shall the slight of build Blackbird be deprived
I wish to see her fly and spread her lovely simple wings
I waited until it flew down, wary of my stance
It moved forward considering what is in my hands
She glimpses at me and I saw myself in her dark eyes
I saw independence, yet acceptance of raw need
One that I felt could be filled if she trusted in me
quiet demeanour hinting at a quaint leadership
lover of melody, the importance of ones self
I waited patiently for her call once again
black feathers and gaze glazed with a beautiful starkness
I want only to hear her sing, to be my true muse
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