Breaking through the dense gray mists, shattering
the mornings illusions, the robin throng
shreds the distortions of fog, tattering
daybreaks shadowy images into piping song.
Feather and bone, hollow drumming of flight
with heart beating skyward where it belongs
on feathered wings, the sky opens far from sight
reveling in the freedom of cloud and song.
Gleaning the golden field, robins whistle
and sing. Cheerful flock in the winter meadow
testing the mettle of ripe wheat and thistle-
for they do not reap nor do they sow.
See the birds of the air, no single hour of worry or care,
so much more than they are we, with only grace to bear.
*** The idea was to take a form and break the rules – but I think the only thing that fits this prompt is that I wrote a sonnet of all things! And I am quite sure that I broke rules somewhere along the line. smiles
thecourseofourseasons 
lovely work here no matter in what form ;`)
thank you, John – form is not my strong suit – smiles
ah but even they are not above us…
though i love to watch them….and i am pretty sure i always break form…
nice job on the sonnet…
Lovely pictures you paint!
I like ‘hollow drumming of flight’. Jane
Lovely poem, Kathleen – and you’ve kept the spirit of Brian’s prompt. Whilst you have a sonnet rhyme scheme, your meter is quite variable … smiles. But that dosen’t detract in any way form your words.
ah when can learn much from the birds when it comes to not worrying but taking the days as they come… beautiful snapshot of nature here k.
This is a most excellent poem – and breaking the breaking is also breaking.. The birds come allive in your poem.
this is lovely. Yes, they do not need to worry, reap or so, but their heavenly father does take care of them!
Wow. Lots of birds in today’s poems. Mine as well – also a broken sonnet but not so elegant, so vibrant, so praise-worthy as this. Very, very fine poem.
How I love this! Especially “with heart beating skyward where it belongs on feathered wings”. Simply beautiful. And uplifting!