High in the chill gray sky
And it made me seek within
A reason for their ache—
Why they follow lines in the sky—
To trace the path their gods take.
And then I thought of you and I
Together for this life,
Through struggle and pain
Dealing with our own aches…
Restless and out of sync
Seeking our own terrain
Every time the seasons change.
What a beautiful metaphor you've built, poet! Those birds and their flight in a landscape of changeable skies so identical as man travels along these roads. It is this coming and going of our inheritance, also our destiny. Sometimes the still gray presages new storms and we see the lightning in the glance of the other. One goes on pilgrimage in the blue, one learns by fire that the journey is of two and the sadnesses accompanied hurt less. I embrace you, @johnjgeddes.
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such a lyrical and poetical flight of fancy, my friend. Your response is equal to the poem.
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A wonderful seasonal write, John. I used to wonder as a child on the prairies where those birds were flying. Nice to wonder on tropical climes:)
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Hi Pryde. Good to see you again. Yes, I wondered the same thing the other day on my walk and felt all living creatures are motivated by much the same things :)
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Good poet ,so beautiful picture
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Great poem
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Nice sound in poetry ,wounderful sir
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