Broken wings

We are never alone, even when we feel broken, when our solitude hurts, for there is always a remembered presence of a feeling from a moment when we were touched by another’s soul whose feathers, broken as they were, became a warm seed of healing inside us, almost as if, by being damaged, they released some essential matter, some essential magnetism which attracted the same from us.

And there you see, even in our painful solitude, we are never alone if we can pause to remember that soft touch of pain from broken wings.


The world’s heart
is broken
its soul
is evaporating
its life’s breath

But there
I hear her tongues
of birdsong
I feel her soft fingers
of sunlight
I see her beauty
and know all will be well.