Wednesday, 3 October 2012


I am a feather
Light and soft to touch
I can not recall from where I was plucked
Only the toss and turns of the wind
Today I rest for a moment
Then I am twirling up the sky
With the next gust of wind
I know not of my destination
Even though I yearn for rest
I have no will of my own
I am like a marionette
Tied with string to hands that bellow an invisible force
Sometimes I wonder
If the bird I once belonged to
Ever noticed my plucking
So now I rest
Because it is calm
Until the next wind comes
Where will I be tomorrow?
posted from Bloggeroid