"The seeing-eye, the beating wing, the bird that laughs at everything.
Misunderstood by everyone, who can not see all things as one".

Monday, March 9, 2009

A Varied Thrush fell.
I saw it fall. Went to it.
Carried it to my nest.
Warmed it, calmed it.
Watched over it,
and waited.
It's moment came.
Alive once more
it returned home
to the silent forest.
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