Purify my thoughts.

My thoughts, a black bird
With tiny frigid legs
Settles happily on the edge
Of the tree feeding happily on the
Mud flowing from the sweet drip

It gaze with wide teeth
As it swallows the insipid taste
Dropping with its count of seductiveness
Drooling the eyes slowly

The stomach soon filled
With the light content of the seeds
Struggle deep within its quick delivery
Of an innocent sin
Racing with a giant blow

It flaps its wings in the sky
To continue the walk
But nay! The weight buried
With an early pregnancy
Delayed the flight of the strong bird

With slow breath
Leaving its hardened gut
It beg the hands of the sky
To stretch forth clear water
From the upward stream
To wash the muddy filth
Webbed in the swollen nest
Of the passing bird

MO.

Photo courtesy: davidclare.me.uk

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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