A Raven, to a Wren

A Raven, to a Wren

Bound about by this city, smog, steel,
Brother and sister bird-chicks, blindly
dreaming flight under its gray sky-shell
Feeling the outer world invisible,
closed and open spaces, winds and havens
What can we do, as yet unborn, untried,
but spread in dreams, in hope, our wings of words
and trace our arcs across this inner space
Preparing for a free wild infinity?

A poem I wrote to a fellow writer, long ago and far away. Never stop writing.

About Confanity

I love the written word more than anything else I've had the chance to work with. I'm back in the States from Japan for grad school, but still studying Japanese with the hope of becoming a translator -- or writer, or even teacher -- as long as it's something language-related.
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