A sharp twig within the nest
That I struggled to make soft and warm
Broke her fragile shell too soon
She struggled hard to free herself
Of her shattered prison
I could not nourish her and keep her close
Her voice so small and silent
She flew her solo flight today
Her tiny wings beating a thousand cries in the air
Tonight I wonder if her tiny brave heart beats


When late at night, and the world has died
And nothing seems to matter
In here feel warm by the ecleclic glow"
Of workers of words and visions
Fingers flying low over curves of verse
Souls screaming at the heavens
Begging a release never known
For senses to burst their boundaries
Pushing and pulling in rhythmic beat
Like a song with certain cadence
Speaking of things which have been done
And things which are soon to happen
Taking us hard to deeper depths
To where we have never been
Coming up for a breath of air
Only to plunge once over
Fashioning life into simple words
Finally to lay exhausted

Thank you Alys and Wordlovers again! For you:

My windows open, my door is wide
Sunshine washing walls once grey
Pillows fluffed, carpets beaten
Waiting for the newest day
Standing in the doorway dreaming
Of all things which can be done
Not must, should or have to do
But wanting, wishing for each one
The wind is calling me to follow
Words are written in the sky
Not by me but many others
Never asking reasons why
Now no need to wait for answers
As I spin in the morning sun
And will never feel abandoned
Even if I'm only one



(C) Copyright September, 1999
Marie St. Onge-Davidson
All Rights Reserved