Once upon a time  in a far away land
Of silken air and fragrant flowers
There lived a spirit bird with golden wings.
The song it sang was dragonflies
And dew drops on white lilies.

It flew in swooping arcs of joy
And floated on the crystal waters
Dreaming dreams of fleecy purple clouds
And meadows filled with poppies
Blooming in the morning sun.

In this land the air was still
And crisp as a fresh picked apple.
No wayward breeze disturbed the calm
Or rustled through the lacy trees
To blur the whispers of serenity.

The bird felt subtle longings for
Another time, another place
It knew it did not want to go.
A place of harsh realty
And ugly opportunities

Where nothing worked the way it should
And people failed on every hand
For only trying to exist.
There was no music, only growls
And the air was thick with worry.

Fighting back the urge to go
And try to somehow make things better
The mystic bird with gilded wings
Found it could no longer fly
And so the choice had been made for it

To stay among the music and the flowers,
In the golden summer light of yesterday.
             ljm