My little bird,
fly, fly high —
beyond the trembling branches,
beyond the restless sky.
You are free,
not bound to the dust of hours,
nor the cages of memory.
Your wings are woven of light,
your song is made of eternity.
Little bird,
in your flight I see
the secret dialogue
between silence and infinity,
between the breath of the earth
and the dream of the stars.
Go, carry the horizon
in the curve of your wings,
scatter the seeds of dawn
into the heart of night.
Fly, fly high,
my little bird —
you are not alone.
The universe sings with you,
and freedom is the echo
that returns forever.
-
Author:
alexis karpouzos (
Offline) - Published: September 20th, 2025 03:39
- Category: Love
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, RSM0812
Offline)
Comments2
A simply lovely poem with superb pairing of images and with good flow. The metaphor works so well. Very nicely done and a fave
Thank you so much for your lovely words ❤
You are most welcome
"Between the breath of the earth and the dream of the stars". This is writing at its best. Great ✍️.
Thank you so much 💓 Really appreciate it!
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