Birdie

Today I rise at 8:32 am as usual

Shower, brush, coffee, smoke

and all the regularities that are chained to everyday existence

 

But you, fly

Wings moving against God's pillows 

Sacred as you are in your invisible essence

 

Lucky as you are with your golden and royal blue velvet coat,

I am rigid here in a plain blue old jacket from years ago, stuck in my weekday rituals that fly me away to nowhere

Maybe following me to the next day

 

Your flight takes you throughout to see above us all and away from my monotonous and dull rusted skin

I hear you every day, 

when I wake at 8:32 

and the song you sing helps me dance in this stale room