Preparation.

Naked trees stand tall in winter, long with splintered bark
Collecting moments on their jagged arm decks
Seconds falling cold and white, with bright complexion
These flaked and frozen tears are Time's rejects

A little bird soars then sits, to get the balance of his feet
Singing soft and shy to the blue clouded king
His melody shivering with notes quivering cold
He flutters and shifts and prunes his small wings

His heart song is brief, as sorrow is a thief unseen
And the fluttering does not but melt some snow
Blustery sky stares, while in the air birds last note rings
A prelude to Springs sweet kiss and emerald glow

The busy bill and blanket white, for gallant flight prove birds wings
With one deep breath he lunges toward unpromised destination
And 'neath footprints of this guest, warmth suggests a bud
Each chance he takes to soar leaves room for new creation

November 24th 2008
(c) Novalyn Grace RRL