Sunbeams slanting down cross-lit the tops of the tee pees
Blood candy red in the brightening day as all the birds cried
The universal fire licking at the holy ceiling in wild tongues
A legacy soon to expire as the oxygen drains away from his face
An alabaster legend in sculpture acquired after many a havoc
With stony countenance belying no expression in this place
Leaving the only possible exchange in the air to be magic
This White Tower nestled deep within our hearts is lost
Within a series of nested canyons diminishing down into a drain
A place in time we can never go back to no matter the cost
Or the toll taken dead set upon finishing out a brain
The wall of flames is woven from the stuff of our very heart
Takes the form of plasma at a level to which we're connected
Electric blood is pumping through our veins right from the start
Whatever we see depends upon the lens that we've corrected
One minuscule part of one degree off and our drama gets distorted
We belonged to a tribe that worshiped birds with the moon and flowers
This fish story explains how any false sense of reality gets reported
And how I can just sit back and think of you and I for many hours
painting by Gregory Alden Davis
i wrote this poem for you Birdy
