The Feather
The Feather
Judging the tear drop
That escaped my eyes
Was it a mild ache of my heart?
Or joy of freedom in disguise?
I felt a feather on my face
Light, beautiful and shinning in blue
The bird had lost something treasured
Only if it had a clue.
Holding the feather, trying to infer
If the bird would miss it for a day,
Was it really an unpleasant loss?
Or just a wilful play?
Hope is a thing with feathers
Reflected a poet's insight
If the bird had lost hope
Or liberation from it was her right?
Is letting go always painful?
I wondered as I stared the sky
No was the answer that echoed within,
The bird had lost a feather
In the flight of reaching somewhere high.
Closing my eyes I freed the feather aside
As I felt a smile on my face
Realizing the tear drop had already dried.