Growing Feathers
we were wingless
until we knew love
our breathless breath
lifted us
into rainbows
eagle-like we soared
fearless and bold
flapping newfound wings
feathers soft as gossamer
and it was then
we understood
the lightness of being
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
She needs to dig deep
to pull the roots
that grow under her feet
to do so requires strength -
my room
a sanctuary
at the end of the day -
It must have been
a stormy night
when love flew out the window
of my vacant roomlike a feather
from a molting bird.
-
she gathers dreams that were
shattered in the last storm
fragments burnt and charred
when lightning struck, turned
an armful of hopes to ash—
she laces them into a willow hoop -
wetting my feet
in the old pondI pause to remember
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Oh, Neetu, how beautiful! I love the imagery, and all of the sentiments it evokes.
So glad you like it, Veronica. Your comments always mean a lot. Thank you!
You are most welcome!