Exotic birds

Exotic birds flew across my window today-

From red to gold and silver to sapphire,

Melting one another, I wondered how they survived,

Ice and fire combined.

I forgot to feel the pen sitting in my hand

Or the paper patiently waiting on my desk,

My mind was out there, flying, swooping

Secretly whilst nobody watched.

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When they settled on my windowsill

I reached out a hand to stroke their patterned feathers

But I felt only hard rain insistently battering my skin,

And, no longer waterproof, I was forced to withdraw

Until I sensed the pen and the paper and my brain

Whirring out of control, refusing to pause.

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As normal, I raised my gaze to the window

And saw flooding tears gushing by

At a diagonal to the rest of the world.

There were individual drops, smashed against the glass

Trickling down, humming their last farewell,

Enjoying the attention – they obscured my view.

I turned back to my dry page, with no escape,

And began to write a message.

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Daydreaming is a momentary escape. Our lives in the world are our time to tell the world our message…