SONG BIRD

The sun shining in all its glory,

A clear azure sky is a dome over me.

I should feel blessed and free,

But, why is there this empty feeling?

I am grasping for something.

Song bird, where are you?

A cheery melody, chirp for me a few.

There is a hole not so visible.

It has been around for sometime now.

I was busy and it did not matter anyhow

Now that I have time to putter,

The hole seems a lot bigger.

Song bird, where are you?

Spellbound arias sing to fill the space.

I am neither happy nor am I sad, but maybe,

I am thinking too much about me.

A temporary distraction will do fine.

But, in the stillness of the day or nighttime,

In my solitude, the emptiness finds.

Song bird, where are you?

Whistle for me a soothing harmony.

I have been the world over,

Viewing tulip blooms and Van Gogh brushes.

At the Mariinksy Theatre, Giselle dances.

Sleeping under Saharan stars and sandy seas,

Good and wholesome distractions for me.

Songbird, where are you?

Jam for me some harmonica blues.

Maybe the emptiness is good for me.

Pain or laughter makes me feel alive,

To strive, is to live a purposeful life.

To arrive is to go past the 18^th fairway,

Ha, I am rationalizing myself away.

Song bird, where are you?

Blast me with your rock n roll tunes.

Ah, to be alive is to be blessed,

But how shall I fill that emptiness?

Though unable to keep my former promises,

With new resolve and purpose, I go.

Will it be different this time? I do not know.

Song bird, where are you?

Strum a few chords, a ballad sing.

Do give me a new vision.

Breathe in me a new life to go.

From my head, let the oil flow

Down on to my beard and my toes.

Less of me and of you, I desire more.

Song bird, where are you?

Beat the drum and let the rhythm flow.

I know this chosen path is not an easy.

By myself I am unable to keep, you see,

As many promises are broken by me.

So help me fall and die.

To die is to live and dying is not pretty, sigh.

Song bird, where are you?

Play a requiem for a farewell song.

When the time is come,

Return this base mortal to the soil.

There will be no more struggle or toil,

And no reward will I claim, after.

But, be among the glorious flowers ever

Song bird, where are you?

Blow your trumpet, a resurrection song.