The First Song
taking wings, I fly, my home is vast,
garden of gardens, love that will last;
in the sun’s warmth, I see jewels glow,
on the tip of leaves, a beautiful show.
through my feathers, a gentle breeze,
it kisses gold petals, the top of trees;
it traps a tuft of the gardener’s hair,
as it searches for stories everywhere.
the land’s daughters, carrying pots,
smiling as they work, worries forgot,
birdsong in the air, and my first song,
butterflies, bees, it’s where I belong.
deep into the hills, my journey goes,
first memory, this will be that I know,
I share my home, with rivers, streams;
to many, this is the home of dreams.
(© 4th July 2015)