The Tapestry

Upon my wall sits a beautiful thing, a bird all made out of thread.

His black and gold eyes look playfully at me as it reads what I have just said.

His golden chest and red and blue head do jauntily sit on its perch.

But it offers no words, no hint of a song, its colours are what I must search.

 

His burgundy feathers and golden crown speak years of royalty to me

His blacked thin feet show lost remnants of faithful work done tirelessly

His inquisitive eye questions my thoughts; it seems like he genuinely listens

He looks out my window and thoughtfully sits, as the winter sun shines through and glistens.

 

But the feathers I see, so beautifully plumed, he tries to hide from my view

I asked him why, was he ashamed, I asked? ‘Indeed’ he replied: ‘very true’.

For the feathers you see, the colours I wear, all signify a lack of commitment

I don’t stay in one place for a long enough time; not even for a doctor’s appointment.

 

I jump, and I glide and I flit and I fly: ‘free as a bird’ indeed, so they say

But I have no real home, no real nest of my own, for that chance I long threw away.

My feathers you see, so hideously rare, only inspire feelings of anger from others

They judge and they scorn; they snicker and point; even those who I used to call brothers.

 

Ah! My dear bird. But cannot you see? Your feathers are a beacon of life

Their delicate hues and beautiful shine gleam like the blade of a knife.

They show that you’ve soared; that you’ve battled and roared and that life is what you always have loved.

They show that you’ve cared; that you’ve cried from despair; that you’ve learned to live, laugh and love.

 

 

My precious sweet bird, do not hide anymore, wear your feathered coat with pride.

For the thread that you’ve woven throughout your whole life is mirrored in the ocean’s great tide.

In your feathers, I see life; so beautiful so rare; I see how you’ve lived through the ages

For in your tapestry woven, is the story of us all; heart-wrenchingly locked up in cages.

 

Reviews

[Francesca]

I love the story in this poem and the bird you used to tell it. There's some parts of the poem that flow really well and have great words and a nice flow, but then there's other parts where it gets confusing and interrupted. I think that's because some of the lines are really long without breaks and it feels like a story more than a poem. Sometimes I had to stop and reread because some of the wording was rough. Also, sometimes you called the bird "he" and other times "it". I tried to pick a favorite part, but I really do like all of it. The description and feelings you give to the bird are great, you don't repeat a lot of words and you had a great meaning behind it. Great poem!

[Ahmad Cox]

Wonderfully beautiful story and message

[Karli]

This is true poetry.