Lovelier still...

Inspired by the film "The Fall". Think India.

Lovely...
Lovely...?

A teal feathered bird, shimmering in the glow of the morning sun.
Gold and green sheen...the colors tease the light...
It's long neck dipping gracefully; up and down, up and down.
It prances on it's perch, gilded gold all around; up and down, up and down.

Framed by twirling wire, intricately wrapped.
Tenderly embraced by cool dripping ivy...
Crowned with tiny Rose buds, curling their delicate leaves even in sleep.
The jewel-toned wings shiver within the gilded dome.
A prisoner to beauty because of it's own.

Lovely...
Lovely...?

The breeze dancing with sheer satin curtains, exposing a pale marble balcony.
Strong thick pillars encircling...
Sunshine lit petals float through the gaps, falling soft on the stone.
To die here at last, a tribute to beauty.

So like the song of a teal feathered bird
Wrapped in a dome
Twisted in gold
Near to the curtains, its coo echos through halls...
The delicate tune haunts the soul.

Lovely...
Lovely...?

A bed lies in pillar striped shadows,
Warm rays reaching out to warm the cold cushions...
Swollen in satin, lavished by lace, swimming in silk,
Beaded, embroidered, perfumed...
Jewel tones and Earth tones and Sky tones and Star tones;
The colors colliding around a still figure...

...alone...

A girl...

Sunlight unlocks the secrets of her face.
Her lips parted slightly, her breathing; she tastes morning air.
Her eyes shut,  lashes quiver lightly on her cheek.
Her hair spills across her face, her closed eyes turned blind to the balcony.
The breeze blows the petals through the curtains, singing to those inside...
The petals waltz across the room, softly kissing all they touch.
A teal tinted feather swirls above her head and lands in her hair.
Liquid eyes open, blinking in the light.
Gilded gold all around.

Lovely...
Lovely...?

Her slender fingers close around the velvet down.
Twirling the feather against her lips, she smiles.
A smile drowned in sorrow...her eyes sing of tears.
A teal feathered bird stares from its chamber;
Watching the strange creature that lies...
Always covered in its own strange plumage; beaded and sown.
But today it moves...flight on it's mind?

Her feet feel lightly for the frozen floor.
Trembling, she moves across an icy mosaic that graces the ground.
Towards the bird, towards the breeze, towards the sun.
Toward life.
To freedom.
Grasping the cage, gilded and golden, she tears at the ivy;
Thorns cut at her flesh.
She sweeps past the curtains, stained in her hurry,
Parting the petals that wait there, to die there.

Lovely...
Lovely.

She leans on a pillar and opens the cage that has long held them both;
Now granting release from a life lived imprisoned.
The teal colored bird coos in it freedom,
It bows its neck, golden green, joy and sadness mingles in its song
She hums along...
Tucking a bloodied teal feather in her hair braided.

Wings and finger stretch, hair and feathers stir, eyes stare...set.
Lovely is the vision of a bird that soars towards the sun.
Up and down, up and down,
But the bird does not fly alone...

...For we witness the flight of a once captive soul.

Author's Note

Experimental piece.
Once called "too baroque" by a reviewer and I think that sums it up nicely. *laughs*
Just trying something different.

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

Lovelier still... is a captive creature set free to be what it is intended to be. It always amazes me that when there is something beautiful in this world, our first instinct is to possess it. We crush, hold, grip, cage, and pen. We try to own the seed of knowledge, and in our ownership, hoard it. We try to make our world fit our egos. Yet, there were those experiments with the dogs on the electrified fields, the ones where it was learned that there are always some individuals who never give up. Escape is never easy- we get cut and we bleed. But we do manage, if we have the will.

This piece made me smile today, Vesa. The message is clear, but we are not browbeaten with it. That's what I so like about your work. We are left to make up our own minds, even when shown a morality tale on the surface, Keep writing, please?

[Inci 2]

I seriously haven't read a poem so beautifully written as this.. great work!!

[Through the Gateway]

A brilliant piece, Vesa. I've never seen the film, but this piece reflects a life that has lived in captivation for so long that the payment of life's blood is too easy an exchange for the chance to fly to the sun. The imagery is beautiful and I love the style.

[Michael]

There's an awareness, a sixth sense to being conscious of all the things thrumming through your thoughts, your feelings, your heart, your mind, and your body. Something feels off, incomplete, out of step, you merely wish to feel whole or to not be left to walk or lie alone. Perhaps I read wrong yet there is a loneliness even the wonder of a bird taking flight. Human relations always seem more head pounding then those between birds.

I remember this peculiar yet quiet little bird that landed on the patio the other day. It was rainy, I couldn't tell if the plump finch was unwell or simply exhausted. My guess about the species makes the critter to be rather far outside its natural flight zone for this time of year. I left some crumbs and water for the bird since I had no feed at present yet at my return later, the bird was gone and so were the crumbs.

I merely hope it got going again alright instead of something else getting him or her still we as people have prisons or cages that lack substance in the physical sense of the word.

Love the poem.