Fallen seagull
lying there on the ground
disheveled shape
made from a plastic bag
one day you’ll fly free
and be reborn
from the streets you call home
Fallen seagull
lying there on the ground
disheveled shape
made from a plastic bag
one day you’ll fly free
and be reborn
from the streets you call home
dreams lead into dreams
let your conscious fly away
as the subconscious governs the night
succumb to Morpheus
let him be your guide
as you venture ever further
to reach an understanding
when you wake
and try to remember
has this been your life
that when you close your eyes
you are seeking surrender
in dreams
with your orange beak
what will you speak
in the garden green
your feathers pristine
moving around
up and down on the ground
bring about a shape
part of the landscape
flying away
watch him go today
Generations in the making
well trodden are these ways
footprints in time leave a path
for the chosen few to follow
along the plain and streams
bridges across rivers
over hills and mountains
different cultures of people
all colours of the rainbow
take shelter from the gathering storm
we wait for it to pass
but we know in our hearts
fear prevails
as our surroundings darken
a path is found within
to lead us away to safety
what remains
cannot be unbroken
like a child
fragile to begin with
then as strength returns
so shall we find in ourselves
the depth of courage
against disparity
and awaken a truth
a burden of which we carry
I welcome the rain
for when it arrives
life is renewed
as if on a spring morning
one chooses life
the crescent moon
adorning the skyline
sometimes our feelings
turn into doubts
but they are just fleeting
through mirrors
the reflections of the dawn
waiting for the sunlight
sunrise
sunset
silhouette
Robin in the garden
on top of the tree
looking down at me
singing his song
that little redbreast
all day long
Hidden moon
Cloudy sky
Words are stillness in the heart
as time fades
the past renews
our voice