The year that began with ravens
Ends with sparrows.
I think my life
Is a candle in a paper boat;
Never meant to last.
The year that began with ravens
Has tested me
In ways I can't explain,
But nameless music
Can be as sweet as a split apple
Or as bitter
As an empty room.
The year that began with ravens
Spared a teasing taste of honey--
An aviary June.
The year that ends with sparrows
Leaves me humble
With just a jar of coins.
I think my life
Is a candle in a paper boat;
Never meant to last--
A sparrow in that twilit place
Where despair and peace are joined.
________
One day there will be love that will last from June to forever...with a cracklin' fire!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Scarlet!
ReplyDeleteWow words
ReplyDeletewhat blessing sparrows are
don't we all have years like these. may the next one bring fragrant nectar, star bursts and honey-covered monkey nuts for that mischief we so adore.
ReplyDeleteDear Fireblossom.
ReplyDeleteWe need to have words.
Two words, first.
Property damage.
Now, don't start too suddenly.
Yet.
I am not seeking compensation.
I suppose I have already received it.
But, really.
...
I have a broken chair.
...
Why, croaked the raven, do you have a broken chair?
Because, Miss Raven, as the twittering, chattering class of sparrows, and the fat pigeon bystanders can attest, I moved awfully suddenly. My body went suddenly rigid, pulled taut by neural overloads, then exploded into relaxation.
And, dear Raven, the chair could not absorb the sudden charge in the air, nor, cunning harbinger of warnings, the sudden rocking at its (the chair's) joints.
(Admittedly, it had been glued together after a particular difficult drafting session required extensive leaning on the hindmost legs. But, I digress.)
What does any of this have to do with Liebling Fireblossom?
Seven words, Miss Raven.
Seven magic words sprung my seat from its seams as galvanic forces wrought immobility, then release, on my poor frame. And then on the chair's...
And as occult as you are, you know the many mysterious connections of seven...
...
"Or as bitter
As an empty room."
...
I rest my case.
Tschuess,
Chris
PS. You post from the USA, no?
Aren't you required to put warnings on everything over there?
I recall buying toothpicks once with the warning inside the package advising me not to stick the toothpicks in my eye.
And yet you are allowed to wield a wit far sharper than the point which pierced the arras, and Polonius, too.
Very dangerous, very dangerous.
But who knows where that paper boat will travel... :-)
ReplyDeleteI love sparrows.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of a candle in a paper boat,I think of a beautiful paper lantern.
ReplyDeleteLoved the birds you wrote along with in this...
This was . . . sad. But, sadness so beautifully expressed.
ReplyDeleteThis past year was a strange year for me. I will blame the raven.
ReplyDeleteI really like the word "twilit." I think there is more left than just a jar of coins, isn't there? Gee, a girl has to have hope don't you know?
ReplyDeleteoh, sometimes a year can be an eturnity! At least there are wings to fly
ReplyDelete