I Too Have Wings
by Portia Burton
After the rainy and gloomy night
The new day has dawned fresh and bright,
Oh, how that bird is staring at me!
Does he want me to join in its flight?
I say unto him with a warm smile,
“Wait, my dear bird, wait for a while,
I too have wings, though invisible they be,
And I have my own unique flying style.
“Yes, poetry gives such wonderful wings,
To me and some other likeminded beings,
She also gives us a divine eyesight
To see in different light the ordinary things.
“Then I can fly even in the incessant showers,
And I can see fairies frolicking in bowers,
And I sometimes join hands with a gentle breeze
To spread all around the fragrance of flowers.
“Yet, poetry also makes me hear a wounded bird’s cries,
Or a homeless destitute’s resigned mute sighs,
And she also brings along with some rosy dreams,
Tears of tortured helpless persons to my eyes.
“So, my dear bird, I invite you to come along
With me to make the world happy with a sweet song.”
©Portia Burton 2012