Inside this open zoo of birds all exotic
we meet an intruder crow,
a nothing bird, common man midst the Eternals,
a voice heard in dreams just before
awakening makes them metallic, languor.
You hold my arm as if I am not the one needs
to be protected today, as if I am the keeper
of all birds at the origin of the gardens,
not a nothing man who returns home
because there he will repent, leave and be guarded.
I murmur to the crow, from one nothing
to another- ‘Flow. Don’t fly, flow.’
The way I catch the daily trains, not by running,
commuting but by dreaming again and again.
We make the specials special, Eternals exotic,
Gods Gods, pleasures joy, sadness grief.
© 2019 Arthut.| Powered by Mckodev