songbird

the fluttering wings are
beating against my fingers
thump, pound
i did not think songbirds could be
quite this loud 

it is safe, in my hands 
i know
i am kind
i will not allow it harm
but the pulsing insists
it must come out
it must be free to sing
it must be free to
open these wings 

and i know, the world
is not always so safe
there are so many ways 
we may not be saved 
so i am cupping this
fragile bird 
extending its 
finite time
but it does not belong here
it is not mine 

so gently, i open 
my hands
and the beautiful creature takes
a moment to 
understand
before it is in flight 
and i am in fright 
because this is now entirely
out of my control

and yet
there is song

this is now
very likely 
to go wrong

still, there is song

when the words are 
cramming my brain
and the ink of the pen
is aching for the kiss of my page 
i am, sometimes
a little afraid

once i let them out
i am no longer
in control
this could go wrong

but i read them back
and i find song

i think it was here, all along

i think, sometimes
things need 
the chance to go wrong. 

12:25pm - 10/11/26.