-inspired by Vianne Lior's Dove in Bloom

Somewhere between
Reality and reverie
I see, and it becomes

The birds bloom
And fly in flows
Pinions full-blown

I could scarcely paint
A more beautiful picture
As they with sinew

Strive to stay ground-free

You always know
When the birds feel
Spring is near

They fly in loopty-loops
In a sky filled with swirls
Of wispy clouds

They play tag with mates
Look for the best nest spots
Fights for territory break out

As I watch with glee
Joy is plain to see
In their every hopeful motion.

If you are like me
You are a thief
Who steals words,
Concepts, ideas.
That is no crime
For you cannot arrest
A mind that "borrows."

It is still cold outside.
I step into a warm patch
Where the sun's rays caress.

You reside in those spots
Where I begin to feel, again.
Then the warmth of you returns

And I feel your loving touch.
But I must go on, as do we all,
Making and collecting memories.

She was just crazy enough
To compliment his CRAZY.
They had a decades-long love
Which did not mean devoid of drama
And the pain and suffering drama brings.
Yet they were safe and secure
Within their own crazy kind of love.
That in itself, I always found to be crazy.

I watch a line of birds move in sync
As if they are sketching an eyebrow
Across some heavenly maiden's face.

As the sun slowly rises on the horizon
Its color daubs on her face and cheeks.
The clouds become her apple cheeks.

The sunrise palette paints her pink
And a fiery sun rises to becomes
The tint for her pouty full lips.

Higher the sun rises in the sky, and
Filters streams in waves of golden hair
With long locks about her comely face.

So long as we keep that child-like quality
Of the innocence to see the things unseen
We are enabled with a sense of wonderment

And the ability to see the world anew,
To imagine, to dream, to continue on
In the persistence of hope.

It came flapping in
On great dark wings
This angry pain of a thing

Like a black vulture to peak
At the center of my heart
Break my bones for marrow

Getting at the depth of me
I am not afraid of death
Only at the thought of yours