There is a little red bird sitting on a tree
I then tried to catch him but it suddenly flee
I want that little red bird but then I see
I think it will be better if I let him free.

There is a little red fox on the side of the bay
I then tried to chase him but he ran away
I want that little red fox but then I say
I think it will be better if I just let him play.

There is a little red hamster crawling on the grass,
I then tried to hunt him but he hide so fast
I want that little red hamster but then at last,
I think it will be better if he stay where he was.

There is a little red frog jumping on the shore
I then tried to grab him but he hops even more
I want that little red frog but then I recall
I think it will be better to let him jump and crawl.

There are this little red ones singing together
I’m glad to see them happy and live with each other
I hope we understand their words and laughter
For these little red ones should be valued forever.

©2013 John Vincent Obiena. All rights reserved.

there's singing at
the bottom of the lake!
i plunge down
with ringing ears

through algae membranes
wobbly chasms of sound
at the bottom is
a singing bubble
filled with hearts

i pop my face inside
the ringing stops

a thousand tiny faces turn and smile
they are the saddest pocket orchestra
they've sung away their lives
in fragile bodies shaking

now their glass viola hearts
are breaking

a thousand throats trill out
the final verse:
we are dying
please don't look away

And within those tiny minutes I sowed a tiny love, one that tiny attention would nourish, and tiny thoughts would grow, for between those tiny seconds I finally saw in that tiny girl, a love that of anything, tiny would not be.

Have you helped a butterfly ever
Fragile, delicate, creatures are they
Fluttering bravely, through tempest
Hoping life, til morrow's winds

Entrance to life as tiny things
Growth to most ugly well defined
(During those caterpillar days)
Morphed to beautiful in wonders

Sometimes, passing by, our lives
With barely, hardly, any notice
Although, if we stop, to closely look
Discover, they are the coolest

Searching woods, field, prairie
For life's, delicate, bright, flowers
Giving sustenance, as sweet nectar
For life's wing, and heart beats

Mostly, their life is some shorter
Than the average span of time
Although, some, like some of us
Live only no more, of a moment

Knocked out of the world's air
Often, by hard blows unseen
Without care, we remark
They're just lying there, still

Whilst some soar, as eagles
Or buzz, like bees and wasps
Some of us, are blissfully happy
Simply butterflies, floating through

Pause,,, your hectic busy days
Take a moment, be a flower today
Give out a bit of life's sweet nectar
To butterflies, aloft in the winds

©  2017 Jim Davis

It was a moment of destruction,
that created something beautiful.

When your eyes met mine,
for the first time

Love was created,
and the heart....  destroyed !!

i want to be smaller.
tiny, tinier, tiniest.

i want to be so small, that
i fit into a jar, and
can hide in the walls of
houses i never called
home,

maybe if i cut out some
stuffing, i will be satisfied.

my back
will slump forward and you
will see my spine, but i
will be smaller,
less open,
less
there..
.

and i will cease to exist,,,
almost
an empty shell of skin and
zipper, collapsed on the
floor, maybe my lungs will still
breathe.:

die, died, will die.
i want to be dead.