Winter Bird Morning Song Poem by Leah Ayliffe

Winter Bird Morning Song



Winter bird singing in the morning.
Remember who you are little love, remember who you used to be.
It's always been that way;
A series of forgetting and remembering.
Scribbled fantasies and records of where I've been are my allies,
Projecting a life filled with colours like a quilted blanket that keeps me warm.
It's an embrace by nostalgia, the song gently combing through my curly hair.
A deep exhale into the realm of what came before, humming out the golden path of what's to come.
It's a melody I know well.
I've walked upon the path serene and all that glitters truth,
But easily distracted I sway into the darkest parts unknown.
"Remember the stories of finding home in the blackest hole?
A pit of despair that felt like a 5 star hotel?
Remember losing your mind and relying on the scary parts of life to make you feel like you belong?
You forgot the things you used to know so well.
You forgot that you found happiness here on earths ground.
All on your own, the happiest kid wandering with nowhere particular to go.
This was finding a love within. This was finding dreams in your own visions."
Winter bird singing in the morning.
I remember now.
I remember how I used to be a freedom angel.
I remember my stories of trial and error in how to get there.
It's time to forget about the nonsense they try to pull me back under into believing.
Reality is me, and only me.
I am the reason there is life.
I am the reason I am here.
I wonder if there will come a time, where my little creatures won't have to fight to find a way to sing me back to who I am.
I think it's a tragedy that people lose themselves, but then again, I think it's a miracle that people can find and create themselves out of the ruins of destruction.
How terrible that a love obsessed can knock you off the mountain of self-dependency, but how beautiful that a love that's true can keep you in the realm of sanity.
When I listen quietly I hear it,
The river that never ceases to flow.
Little love you are the magic of love.
You, and you alone.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: freedom,love
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