In my heart’s pocket

lives a little bird

who has not yet taken wing

She hops about

this way and that

searching for the best song to sing

But this song is elusive

and hides from her

so she’s unable to find it’s tune

Awake she stands

knowing her voice won’t be heard

as sun steals night from the moon

In sadness she hides

morning’s song still amiss

wings folded at her sides

She longs to take flight

like others she’s seen

who’ve spread their wings so wide

She climbs out of her pocket

perches on the edge

then timidly lets herself go

It’s a very long way down

she feels afraid

unsure of what’s below

But as she descends

something seems to take control

and upward she begins to soar

In her elation of this feat

she finds her voice

in the notes that from her, begin to pour

Suddenly she realizes

the song was always tucked right inside her

and in rhythm with her beating wings

her joy sounds forth evermore

This poem is for One Shot Wednesday

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