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leo arden Aug 26
silent is the night,

for the creatures of day

in this kingdom of shadow

are with eyes shut tight.

all but the lone,

the restless in the sky,

searching; observing;

soaring high and high.

all but the owl,

alone in the night.
in this kingdom of shadow, only owls are nocturnal. ;)
Penmann Jun 9
A killer spread his wings above my sky
Falcon from the top of the hill
Nested so close

I'm watching him soar
We are all prey

No one cares about the killers anymore
The silence is his gold
Speed in his blood

He keeps me doing what i want
Keeping my eye up in the sky
As he watches me
You had to
Shoot me down
As I was a bird
Flying to soar
And you did not want
Others learning how
To fly away anymore.
Just like the barn owl
Ever the ethereal nun
Kneeling in the branches
Closer to the warmth of the sun
Spreading butterflies
Far away from your aim
With heavy huntress chastise
Away from your cold plain.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Bhill May 19
How and why is it birds can fly
What do they see, when they're up in the sky

So high, up above, and playing amongst clouds
Floating and soaring without any crowds

Finding the wind, to be their best friend
Having no fear of falling, never finding the end

Being free in the sky is a wonderful sensation
I can only see and feel it, in my mind's imagination

I imagine myself with a beautiful pair of wings
Finding solitude and beauty as only flying can bring...

Brian Hill - 2019#124
Inspired by watching the birds doing their thing...
Watching birds fly has been a wonderment my whole life.
Enjoy them as they take flight and freely float above us...
Vinyldarling Feb 22
It is okay to be grounded
This is something i must tell my soaring heart
Every second of every day.

When the world seems to open to you
Like it’s yours for the taking,
“Oh, but you must hold back”

That is something that I wasn’t used to hearing
For I was the one who had to make my own path
And holding back was never an option for me

I was told to always bite my tongue and never let others understand what I was feeling
So the expression of words got stuck in my mind
And could only be freed when I placed a pencil in my hand

It is okay to be grounded
This is something I tell others
When they worry about where life may take them

I still have no idea where my own life is taking me
But every second of every day
I must tell my soaring heart it is okay.

This will all be okay one day,
And perhaps my okay is different from yours
But one day it’ll all work out

You’ll get the promotion you always talked about
And maybe we’ll fall in love
And have a nice colonial somewhere we make our own

But for now we must tell our hearts that while it is okay to dream
We can stay grounded for the time being
Until we both sprout wings and have the ability to soar
Yanamari Sep 2018
How high can I fly
Before I fall?

A question, from my lips
You'll never recall.
For in whatever you may call
My life
I had always been drowning
Every smile
Laced with misery
Every connection
Developed from my energy
Every word
Every word
Full of honesty

You know
The reason why
You see me there
And yet
I am always not there
Is because
With every interaction
That I make
There is nothing that is shared
Only held
And then abandoned.

How high can I fly
Before I fall?

The question is easily answered.
I am already drowning
Drowning in everywhere I am
And everywhere I am not.
The real question is,
How long
And when,
Til I land?
Ola Gia Sep 2018
In the sky with the birds, with the clouds and their kisses
The sunlight envelopes her in a kaleidoscope of hues.
Soaring, dancing, floating, swooping.
Bubbles in her chest, patterns of excitement on her face.
She is whole.

POP! And she comes crashing down,
With chains around her, until she fights and flies again.
Shofi Ahmed May 2018
Are you a witness of the precise moment
on that very proverbial, unpredictable day
when everyone did mind the gap
but the Ramadan moon took a step?

None could time it at first, as if it got out
from a black hole or an uncharted water well:
down the trail, who can tell?

Now a day or two is gone, has passed by.
The moon is in the fast lane soaring high,
and fills the orb with serene soft light.

Ah, buddies catch up, the suave fireflies.
Tons of these stay awake in the night.
Before they fly away, vanishing afar
into the epic portion of the night.
A confluence down the black moon,
only to catch a glimpse of any pattern:
a morning star or a forming pin bar,
a slice of light on a gingerly lit chart.
Premiering the Eid moon’s first blush.
Yet, if only one can time it, when will it flash?

Deep down a black moon, all eyes black out.
Still, how can one sigh though? Ah,
the unpredictable black moon, should it show
just a peek, showers the earth with Eid’s joy!

Will it show up in no time, far from the sight—
galaxies light up the shady nook of night.
A houri in the Eden rings the alarm.
The veiled bunch of fairies push the sky.
Every star throws its hat, only to tell first
when a crescent moon will crop up
And with the first spill of moonlight,
topflight it goes, pushing the boat out!

A walk down the black moon
without a light or water gone into the blue,
As though walking dead, blindfolded.
No pattern, decimals of Pi undefined by design,
but spot on gets to the apex spike!

There’s still an unmarked blank space
the light on this way doesn’t paint.
And this time, the time won’t tell
is there anyone who can is anyone’s guess.
So should the houri dare to run, then
cherubic she be on her flawless flaw,
rushes to ask the Queen of Heaven!

Oh, good luck to her, a wild one.
Time the black moon, its first glance
precisely when the Eid moon will crop up.
Enlighten us, we are more than curious.
Tell us, too—don’t just tweet it to the stars.
A poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
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