Among faraway cotton wisps,
Flits a quad-coloured bird.
Blundering and capering and with the hand spurred;
Onwards and upwards, ever higher, ever faster
A flick and a flutter,
The Eagles’ envy, at my bedazzled form,
Compared courteously to the proud Phoenix,
My body broidered, blissful and bestirred
A friend of Falcons, the cormorants’ companion,
Merrily whirling in whimsical twists;
Immovably affixed to a wrist.
O what a joy to exist,
To fly and persist regardless of tethers
Flourishing flamboyant frozen feathers.
The joy it wanes, the string tugs backward.
It is then I think, of you – O Pinnochio,
Your struggle becomes mine,
I become the bluebird, confined.
Oh, Oh, If only I truly were,
of the feathered creatures divine.
I just could stay fluttering, chasing, rippling, pulsating
The tenement of me: my form, my figure, my anatomy
Dedicated solely to the realms above,
To the fathomless sapphire Sky,
That empyrean domain, where; long to be
Creatures, near and far.
That long-held fascination of man,
O to be in the sky, I would indeed
concede my form, even enthusiastically
Transmigrate to a lowly dove.
I remain, sadly, ever a construction,
Of the hands of man.
Fated to be ever bound to a piece of string
my shackles, my imperfect, lifeless form,
Never to be touched with the spark,
my lament, sorrow overflowing
That magic divine – never kissing my lifeless lips.
/Yet, I pray to the King of Kings,
The Creator and the Destroyer of worlds,
Bind my worthless paper figure
Breathe into me; a breath of life,
So that I may, saunter among the clouds;
Feel the rain, on my skin, freely unfurled
Without wilting, among the wildlife.
Give to me what you gave to man!
No… yet less I ask, no power do I desire
No wealth, no love, no Empire
Just a free rein,
through that most wondrous of Your creations;
That azure canvas, sometimes dark, sometimes light
Studded with diamonds sometimes
and others, awash in silk-bright colours.
No castles do I wish,
No fame, no beauty, no kiss
Just a casing of flesh,
with a few feathers, affixed.
I do not promise to obey,
For I know not how to read
And the wisdom of man is beyond me,
Your commands, I cannot ken
Still, I guarantee my prayer and praise
From Dawn to Dusk I wilt worship thee
amongst the nimbus of cumuli,
In the darkness, amongst my starry companions,
I wilt worship thee,
In the hollows of the verdant woods
I wilt worship thee,
O free me, o free me, your Majesty
This cage of twigs and paper
And the palm of this naive boy
It pains me to be tugged down
Then cast aside, like so many shredded dreams
My time among the clouds forgotten
Discarded for my younger brothers,
Who know not yet their fate
All the swooping joy, soaring in the hands of children;
Only to be brought down to earth forevermore.
I beg, I pray, I plead
O these petty words may You heed
And forgive the Sin of greed.