On the Wing

[woostering]

I am nothing but a little black bird,

Flitting between your branches

Perching amongst the lines

Of the fairytales.

Some days I am still,

Rocked by the wind and strains of song

Some I hardly set down at all

Needing to take flight

Around, between

The trees I have taken to watching.

Some days I am a starling

Inconsequential (one of many)

Some I am the raven

Solitary in my wisdom, in my sight.

But most important, I

Am ever black

And can travel to dark places

And I do not fear, for I too

Am a little dark. (A bearer of the light.)

Let me stay, that I may sing

Or at least

Shed my feathers

(my only mark of passage)

Near the wide branches

Of the only trees that felt like home.