Bleep my Beak

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the Soul And sings the Tunes without the Words And never stops at All Emily Dickinson

My feathers lost their flutter
somewhere along the way
To another country
somewhere far below the snow
To another world,
farther than flight,
higher than any sunlight
A place I learned I do not know

My wings lost their glide,
slower, then slowly,
like a vanishing tide
sauntering out
to hide under the haze
of a tumbling mist
found on the darker of days

In this other world,
I found my mind crumbling,
And my voice stumbling,
my old songs jumbling,
my thoughts sliding
And skidding along
And, I searched myself,
plucked my body for Why,
Why did everything go wrong