There are birds in Paradise (for Julia)

Sun Conure by Julia Patterson

It was like walking out into the morning light, 
it was like finding the rays filtering down from the tree's own height
it was like finding that first song cawed in warbling word
from the branches above where I stood peering
into the gloom for some glimpse of the illustrious bird!

It was like finding the sun where one expects to find only the moon
it was like a spray of color, it was there and gone only too soon
It was there one moment and then gone the next
I write the words and still don't believe my own text.
A few seconds of brilliance then wings taking flight
like the splendors of a rainbow fading away from sight.

It was like awakening in the midst of a flower filled room
away from the dreams, away from the midnight's gloom
and then I feel the warmth of this illusion 
a reluctant retreating foreboding confusion.
Was it the touch of feathery fingers across the shallow of my skin
or some distant memory that I remembered once again?

I remember her words as if the brushstrokes were made to be mine
in all those years since we were together under the impressions of her line
was it one note of the music that we shared 
was it that we just didn't know enough to even have cared
for the treasures between us, a dimming glory, something that no longer will suffice
this is all I recall then. There are such birds in Paradise.




This is a Art Poetry Art Post.