“The Soft Lost Bird” The Sunday Whirl # 142

Life’s tincture doesn’t blend, it pools around
the heart where malice of criticism never ends
as silence moves breathing.

The voice of a woman goes looking for her naked,
irreparable splendour with open eyes,
like a river of light and sound.

In villages without running water or
integral lights shining tint on mountainsides,
these are the times you want to pick up the phone,
even though you’ve nothing to say,
simply to synchronize small slips of life in others’
pockets.

I carry a map with me on this journey
through chance’s corridor, scattered with answers
picked, chosen and discarded along the way.

I listen to the soft lost bird perching
in the tree.

Advertisements

16 responses to ““The Soft Lost Bird” The Sunday Whirl # 142

  1. That first stanza has a solid pull, and the ins and outs of the journey belong to the observer here, who knows every note in the lost bird’s song. A beautiful mood piece, pamela, carefully woven.

  2. Joy Ann, you always make me take another look at what I’ve written, thank you for that.

  3. Your titje alone is a poem. As for the rest, I had to read it several times to pick up the many strands of thought..

  4. beautiful rendering. The last stanza aches in a peaceful way — a pause in the journey — trying to make sense of it all.

  5. I think the soft lost bird is a beautiful gentle guide..one to confidently follow..beautiful writing..

  6. This is beautiful, Pamela. A gentle spirit threads its way through the images in this poem. The last bit about the bird is my favorite. Oh, and this– “… simply to synchronize small slips of life in others’ pockets.”

  7. A beautiful poem! Makes me hope for all those lost birds to find a warm home.

  8. What an amazing spill of words this is:
    “simply to synchronize small slips of life in others’
    pockets.”

    LOVE it.

  9. As Sherry might say, this is one of your best and my favorite in a long list of your musings, my friend. Love the same line many have already mentioned and that last line reminds me of Dickenson’s definition of hope and leaves a lingering sense of the same. You rock, lady…always have, always will. Hope your New Year is filled with more of the same beauty, creativity, and the constant joy of words…

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2013/12/29/living-on-less-than-a-prayer/

  10. This piece has so much in it and each reader will find a different message to others. Observing life we can either hold out a hand or turn away, often missing the beauty of it all.

  11. Well wordled. I like: I carry a map with me on this journey through chance’s corridor.

  12. Great idea to listen to the inner feel where one then has the privilege of choice, to act or discard. Female intuition so they say! Wonderful write Pamelita. Thanks for connecting in 2013 and Happy New Year to you Ma’am!

    Hank

  13. For me in your poem, Pamela, such a depth, read, re-read and just amazed how wise is what you’re saying.

  14. if only i had a map through chance you know….smiles…
    that first stanza def has an emotional hook to it as well…
    i hope you have a wonderful new year pamela…

  15. Pamela, This poem is like a frill of gossamer.

I appreciate all comments.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s