Restoring Wings of Freedom
Winging high above the rambutan tree
It's a world of freedom quite carefree
You sing your song to no applauding awe-dience
I thank thee for thy wake-up calls, with patience.
I wish I can join you in your escapade
Across streams and grass covered plains
At one among your feathered friends
While humans toil, restless and unseeing,to make amends?
I woke one morn and found you helpless
With one left wing bleeding
Did a naughty boy hurt you
With a flying pebble from an elastic sling?
I nursed the wound with lotion and love
And soon rested, you wing your way
To open sky and green fields
Tasting sunshine and freedom again
Teenagers sometimes are like wounded birds
They stumble, and fall, suffer emotional hurts
Dear adults, remember thou art once also a wounded bird
Can you feel thy son's or daughter's hurt?
YLChong
PS: Re-inspired by some teenager somewhere who stumbled maybe, hurt her knees perhaps, wishing Mum or Dad was around to nurse the hurting. It's not so much the physical wound, it's that soft feeling part of the heart that no one close is around when you need him/Her. MayDay, it's still may-lingering for Desiderata, who dedicates today's poem to the YoungOnes everywhere to tell them on the many Mis'haps they may enconter, mayhaps a sharing like this can give thee wings to that freedom once more!
5 comments:
Meow... the little pussy purred
Warm gentle licks the mama slurp
Kids are angel like
Wings get shorter as they grow taller
Blue cloudless sky up above
Eagles dare to soar, sparrows shiver below
Raise your child as you fly your majestic kite
Loosen the cord and tug it in when the need arise.
The blue white Ming sits on the shelf
Lonely under the ray of light
The heart bleeds, the tears flow, the pillow's wet
Alas, the night is dark, the moans too soft
Oceans apart, nobody knows.
The shell's cracked, the sun is warm
I can spread my wings, I can fly
Respect my decision...let me fall...let me learn
Nobody understands me, the world is a beast.
Eight hours of pain I labor through
Long hot nights I suckle you
Palms outstretch I give to you
Do I not understand you?
Rivulets of tears
The heart like a porcelain cracked
Life is too short, we follow the sun
Today is here, tomorrow may never come.
Come, ginger and wine
Rain or shine
You're one after my own heart
In verse, prose, or of the twain part.
I'm glad you stopover
For a chat, or leaving a message
Better, let's reinforce each other
My home, bequeath me thy rites of passage
So gingerly, gently I say
In this lov'ly month of May
Please honour me again with thy call
For yours and mine's for sharing all.
PS: Ginger, you're a poet after my heart, may I invite thee to Email me instead at chongyl200@yahoo.com and I can use thee as a Guest BLogger.
Beautiful,,ylchong
I read your profile ,do you paint? Do you have a favorite artist?
Hi ginger and Other Esteemed Readers -- just correcting my Email: chongyl2000@yahoo.com, and 2000 is NOT my age or date of birth!
Hi SweetSpirit:
You light me up with just one word -- Beaut. If you add another I could soar with paintbrush, maybe paint the sky red!&otherhues -- yes, I do splash on art paper when fancy strikes (this happened often at one stage but earning B&B meant I used my Pen more than my Brush nowad(a)y(e)s, imitating DownUnder accent!-- so it's appreciation more than putting images to canvas.One Aussie favourite artist (I helped promote when he was in Msia, my honour) is Yao DiXiong; and American water colourist, name I can't place offhand -- a Michener? (Is there one SS?). Homegrown ones are Latiff Mohidin, and Cheah Yew Saik and Li Chek Wen and some others using watercolour (my favourite medium).
Ylchong
Kewl finally someone else whom likes to dabble in paint.My fav medium is acrylic although i prefer drawing and sketching to painting.I actually have a love of the masters works ,im more into Leonardo da Vinci n Michael Angelo.But i will seek out the works of the ones you have listed ,tq
tcz
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