Honesty and Trust – two birds
lure the holy chirping into ears.
Truth is wrapped in fists – till hurts,
till the signs of fury disappear.

Tongue’s too blunt to cut a swath,
timid, numb – a swelter’s near.
Soul is wicked, bold and loth
to accept incoming fears.

Flat your fingers – birds shall come,
feed them till it’s no leftovers –
blessing way to treat your chums,
herded Truth revert to Drovers.

Fire’s dancing on a wick.
Who is first to push the edges?
Passing border’s bright and quick.
Birds are fledged, the nests on ledges.

Desperate attempts to flee
form the battles for Conclusions.
Where is that Heaven’s lee,
Bridge of Hopes over illusions?

20 July 2007

Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko