~ Ivory-teal ruffled his parochial feathers His tongue dipped in languages He wanted to learn the pronunciation of life As he folded himself in Egyptian ink
He opened his mind against the dioramic surface of syllables Painted in alloy; dripping from a papery canvas He brushed his ivory creme feathers in crimson and lavender hieroglyphics Bleeding their pictorial valor inside a golden sepia lantern
"Go on, light the world with your suspense and mystery"
Ivory-teal twittered to himself Wrapping the bijoux night around his little body he disappeared into the stars The teal birthmark on his forehead; glowing
He took the lantern in his gold beak fluttering away into spirals of smoke Toward Mythology mountain Where a storm of butterflies were winging their seasonal weather
Ivory-teal sometimes wished he could be a candle flame Flickering in the darkest of moments Letting the sunshine bleed through his beautiful feathers and soft skin
But his destiny was a bit different He was folded in cultural prophetic proverbs and sewed neatly in parabolic traditions Where nationality is mixed into colorful pixels inside skin Accents are curved in throats and lilted on the edge of tongues
Ivory-teal was carved in diamond flex dreams In a temple of mythical patterns Imprinted in mercury cocoons laminated with knowledge The Angel Apostles printed him in their book of Dreamtales Where he became a bilingual silhouette
He was birthed right here on this mountain As he balanced himself on thoughts He had learned to love himself to this point of his life He wanted to be the change he wanted in the world He gently lifted the little lantern
It rose up toward the sun and exploded into rainbow fireworks The contexts that were inside split sideways Tilting and pressing themselves into the air particles
If birds could smile then that would've been Ivory-teal As he laughed quietly
"Now breathe in earthlings, breath in the wonders and knowledge of life"
He then spread his gorgeous ivory creme wings tattooed with all the languages of the world and life itself He twirled into the sunset and bled himself in a cloud
A mountaineer had been watching and wondered to himself As he unknowingly breathed in the context from Ivory-teal's lantern
"If flying is a language I would love to learn and speak it with my wings"
But shouldn't he know that language already For it is the language of freedom Ivory-teal is one of many symbolic accents Of that beautiful language ~