My Sorrow, My Sparrow
It makes perch upon my shoulder and digs its needles through my skin.
Sinks beneath my being silently to let it in.
Beacons to the shadows growing strong with dim light.
Scarcity of nutrient, cloaking darkness over sight.
Its gaze can see in front of me, its eyes aside my own.
It knows the past behind us. Hollow as its bones.
It walks along my stanzas unknown to ever rest.
It plays me like an instrument with reeds that know me best.
It’s silent on my arm except when pecking at my soul.
Its claws are born to ridicule and turn a body cold.
My sparrow soars through wind and flesh and digs between the seems.
It lays its eggs at night to haunt tomorrow from my dreams.
It’s light as half a drop of rain but perches like a rock.
Its pupils soak in glory stole from time, it bleeds my clock.
It holds the present captive weighed in stone and built from ice
And stands upon my body never interested in flight.
My sparrow’s healthy as a sunrise with its warmth to glow and spread
But it’s dark as night in color wound eternal is its thread.
It feeds and breathes and grows its grip and sinks its toes persistent
It leads from its tumultuous heart unknown to be repentant.
My True Joy, My Blue Jay
It rests upon my shoulder and holds tightly to my skin.
Sets deep into my being quietly to let it in.
It casts away the shadows growing stronger from the light.
Abundance of enjoyment, taking darkness from my sight.
It flies through sun and glory and offers it to be my own.
It’s weight beyond existence light as feathers to the bone.
It sings along to stanzas unknown to take a breath.
It plays me like an instrument with reeds that know me best.
It’s welcome on my arm with songs that illuminate my soul.
Its feet are warm and radiant that turn me from the cold.
My blue jay soars through summer breeze and nests along the stream.
Its eggs in morning slumber rest at night to feed my dreams.
It’s light as half a drop of rain with veins as strong as rock.
Its pupils show me past events hung sweetly on the clock.
Its back as soft as cotton holding colors blue as ice
and stands upon my body while it’s resting from its flight.
My blue jay holds a miracle that’s bound to glow and spread
with loving mercy drenched in color strung across our thread.
It feeds and breathes and grows its grip and sinks its kiss persistent.
It leads from its abundant heart displaying life’s incentive.
MonuMental 
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