A gentle keeper
It is hard to know the world she sees
Amber eyes
Steamy and warm dripping muted light
You can almost here her music
You can almost see her soul
If I was a white dove dying
It is her hands I would wish to die in
She is a gentle keeper
From the first blue jay who landed to see her that crisp
October day
To garden sparrows too careless to see the eyes of cats
creeping
Tender and calm, she cares for those who have fallen
flightless
Power little hands cupped like an open heart
When they are set free from suffering she cries
Eyelashes fluttering like fast new wings
If there was a God she would have sent you here
To be the angel for her birds
You are their mercy in their last hours
And although it makes you sad
You are the one chosen to softly send them back
It is hard to know the world she sees
But it is easy to know what sights she holds in her hands
Rest In Peace Little Unnamed Bird
~mlb 11/05/12
tears still on my lashes. How beautiful is it to respect our girls enough to let them see it all? And they always rise to meet the challenge...with grace or power or the amazing combination of both.
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