Music in the Dark

words through generations, transferred ancestral knowledge, my task

A clean beak carried me

Out of molten lava,

And swallowed me, buried me

In their avian heart.

There I learned to sob

And screech with the best of beaks,

But you encouraged me with song

And allowed me to sing.

I cried rivers when you left me

In the tempest of time,

But the wind gently caressed me

And I learned how to rhyme.

Now my beak, hardened with steel,

Rescues little larks,

And I swallow with glee their little shells

Where they write music in the dark.

Reviews

[living lavender]

loved the imagery this piece created.
i wish i could paint these words to life.
{lovely read. adding to my favorites.}