Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Feather of Freedom

Feather of Freedom work in progress.

A soft white feather off a sparrows breast

Landed on my lap.

And I gently picked it up

So careful not to squash and wrinkle the beautiful

Puffy Array of downy vanes arranged around its delicate quill.

As I looked closer, I tried to find the tiny hooks which connected the soft barbules together,

so they could stick to each other, creating the smooth surface treasured by all feather collectors.

This feather molted and was replaced by a new one to keep my sparrow

Warm, dry and camouflaged from harm.

As I was caressing this feather, my sparrow, fluffed up on an apple tree,

Was also cleaning himself, with his beak piercing between the barbules and rearranging his feathers again

Into a strong surface which could carry him high into the sky.

As he cleaned himself he looked at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye,

As if to say:

"Take care, for I still have a journey ahead of me."

And as I kept watching him, I was affected by his cheerful disposition.

I smiled back at him, secretly wishing him well.

As I lifted the feather to thank him,

Showing him my gratitude for sharing his life with me,

He flicked his tail and flew off into the horizon

As if in a hurry to reach his destination.

Sadly, left alone, I searched to find an old discarded perfume bottle and thought:

"Feather, your job is to fly. Not to be left behind."

I cut out a tiny cork ship which I slipped through the mouth of the bottle and glued it to the bottom.

I then gently pushed through the feather and set it up high and proud, into the deck, so it would sail and fly forever.

Once my bottle was securely sealed and ready to be viewed, I slipped a knot around it's neck

And hung it outside by the branch where my friend, the sparrow, could find it.

There it hangs,

Sailing through green branches, pushed by the wind, with no particular place to go.

Every day I sit on the porch, waiting and hoping to see my sparrow again

Every day his feather brings me joy thinking about him, the places he is visiting and the cheer he is bringing to all who see his carefree, mischievous sparkling eyes.

This Feather of Freedom,

Off a sparrow's breast,

Is on a journey, to the far off west.

It will sail forever

It will always fly

It has so many uses

But not enough time.

This Feather of Freedom

Touched me today

I wish I could use it to fly away

But my life is grounded and

I'm here to stay.

My freedom I found in a Sparrow's eye.

Who's chirp I hear up in the sky

A downy feather was his gift to me

And with this feather, he set me free.

A Lady’s Life


juliana said...

nice... funny that you write about a feather today (clue in the photo i just posted)

Akelamalu said...

My youngest grandson collected a whole handfull of sparrow feathers from my garden yesterday. :)

A Lady's Life said...

Juliana - I love sparrows and I hope I can finish this painting to give it the justice it deserves. Unfortunately it takes time for the paint to dry and I have to wait.I still need to find a place for the molted feather.but it served for the story and the poem.:)

A Lady's Life said...

Akelamalu : Now you know what to do with them.lol
Hope you have a lot of small bottles and corks from wine bottles lol
Whenever I find the odd feather I feel so sorry for it and wish I could make a writing quill from it.
I am also always amazed how nature figures it all out. It invented zip lock bags long before man did.In this case zip lock feathers.Strong enough to fight the wind and yet soft enough to be torn by a beak and then zipped up again.

George said...

I like your painting, your thoughts and your poem. I like the idea of the feather being hung back in the tree. Neat!

A Lady's Life said...

George - Remember that movie with Burt Lancaster - Bird Man of Alcatraz? He was in jail and raised Canaries What could be more cheerful in such sombre circumstances?

Russell said...

Wonderful poem and the picture you are working on -- both very, very nice.

I just listened to the poem being read by Jimmy Stewart. I remember the night he read this on Johnny's show. Doesn't seem so long ago.

He and Johnny both teared up. I remember Jimmy Stewart reading lots of poems in his later years on the Tonight Show.

I miss him and Johnny, too. But life is for living and we need to cherish our memories while realizing that some of the best memories are yet to be lived.

Take care and thank you for your nice words on my blog today. I apprecaited them.

A Lady's Life said...

Welcome Russell. Blogs are meant to be enjoyed by their owners and if you have things to express or to share,what better way than to the world?You never know. It could help some one somewhere.

SandyCarlson said...

Most excellent. You have warmed my heart this morning.

A Lady's Life said...

Sandy - Thanks Your blog is wonderful.:)