A thousand birds

A thousand birds declaiming
in shivered, rippled voice,
the joy of life sustaining;
as heavens do rejoice.

A thousand birds in swooping,
in feathered, perfect time,
that endless, ageless looping;
the flock does move sublime.

A thousand birds in settling,
on twig and branch and leaf,
arrayed in rustled rattlings;
pure decoration brief.

A thousand birds in rising,
a soaring through the skies,
such masterful surprisings;
here, then gone, they fly.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s