Starlings


The murmurs of a heart beat dancing between the clouds. The fluid motion of the ocean's currents, violent in transition. They are liberated of the bondage which holds me. Free like I will never be.

My solitude, locked in this stone walled cell. Locked inside my mind, unable to leave the confines of doubt. So I watch them dance. A private viewing of nature's ballet, accompanied by the wind rushing through the drying leaves; the chirp of grasshoppers; the buzz of the cicada.

These walls separate me, my fingertips brush the breeze as it blows past, ahead of these iron bars. But my reasoning holds on, my sanity glides on their wings; dependent on their annual flight.

Until they come again, I'll wait.