Pierce Heavenly Light

Broken winged, I have been with this one element, this wing clearly down,
And I have seen that flight for me has always been less than free,
For my general occupation has been to exist beyond this injuring frown,
And to rest tallest, most fashionably upon life's living, loving tree,

And as the mockingbird heralds each new day with boisterous call,
Shrill, it attacks the calmness in the chill of moving morning,
And little compares to it's flight across the eventful sprawl,
Of a world of fast paced others, below found shouting, scorning,

O' this broken wing, how I wish it would find it's needed repair,
Free me to fly high again into my holy midnight, this important flight,
And steal me safely away once again, high up in the air,
So that I may once more have the means to pierce heavenly light.

( O' how breathtaking this thing, this gift of flight. )

Thom Douglas Carlisle ( Irish Tommy Moran ) - Ireland

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View the graphic here . . .

http://i93.photobucket.com/albums/l72/IrishTommyMoranSinnFeinIrelandtomoboy/Pierce%20Heavenly%20Light.jpg

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Wow, powerful, very personal, broken, always on guard, always a man, first and foremost... cleverly crafted hidden behind witty phrases. Well done!

Mo,

Thank ye dear. Yep, it was all of that. May I say before I came over here to Ireland in 2007 and gained my full citizenship, during a brief period in my life, ( during my growing up, 'Seal-Pup' years, ) I made friends with a wild mockingbird who had one wing down. I did a bit of research back then and found out that mockingbirds would at times feign a 'wing down' as a means of protection against other combatants in flight. Anyway Mo, this mockingbird would land on a wire outside my small living space and we would communicate as I sat on my cement stoop with coffee in hand. It was always in the early mornings. He/she always had a wing down up on the wire. So I knew this wasn't it's act of feigning. It simply had a past injured wing. Well, we got to know each other quite well over the couple of years I lived there, and, I still think of it with fondness, even over here in Ireland.

Thanks again, Mo,

tommo / Ireland, ( Resounds. )

I will have to do some research on the mockingbird, sounds like an interesting bird. As always your crafted words are appreciated.

Here in my humble abode, sounds and smells like the java is brewed, time to get me a cup and sit down here to get creative.

Yes do Mo, let's get creative there.

Be well,

tommo

So delighted to feel through again..these words breaking through fog...thank you..s

The Northern Mockingbird sings almost endlessly, even at night, like a string of 10 or 15 different birds. It usually sits conspicuously on high vegetation, fences, eaves, or telephone wires, or runs and hops along the ground. This slender-bodied gray bird apparently pour all their color into their personality. Most nocturnal singers are unmated males, during the day they usually sing more than mated males and singing at night is more common during the full moon. They are found alone or in pairs throughout the year, mockingbirds flagrantly harass, aggressively chase off intruders in their territory, flying slowly around them or prancing toward them, legs extended, flaunting their bright white wing patches. They are found in backyards, but they don'��t often visit feeders.

Since I live where they can be found, in the country with a big front and back yard, I will make a point to look for them running or hopping around in my mowed lawn and listening for its song which usually mimics numerous other birds at once, now that I have learned about this bird called a Mockingbird.

Listen,
spring is in the air,
I hear birds singing,
I wonder if it might be
a mockingbird, can you
see what has happen to me?

I'm thinking I wonder if
that isn't a mockingbird,
singing from the tree top,
or perched there on the wire?

Nice brief, Mo.
Thanks for the poem - in brief. I liked it. Very much so.

Sharris,
Thank ye Darlin'. Glad ye liked it.

tommo / Ireland

There is some kiss we want with
our whole lives, the touch of

spirit on the body. Seawater
begs the pearl to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling! At

night, I open the window and ask
the moon to come and press its

face against mine. Breathe into
me. Close the language- door and

open the love window. The moon
won't use the door, only the window! :-)

[Rumi]

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.:-)

[Rumi]

Kaustuv,