I would like to paint the way a bird sings.
Claude MonetTags: art artist sing paint bird
Everybody's a bird, locked up in a pretty cage. Sometimes you fly to a slightly bigger one, but you never quite have the courage to abandon captivity completely.
Dave McKeanIt's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have so many colors."
The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail.
Tags: magic colors feathers magical animal blue white green pink bird oz red duck violet plume purple-yellow
Breath (from the book Blue Bridge)
Whispering to myself
With every step I take,
Trying out names, for I know
There is something yet to be called …..
I know it, something up ahead
Just around the bend
Or over the rise –
A bird taking to the sky
From the edge of a jagged cliff –
A bird floating outwards
In silence ……. A silence
Waiting for a footstep
To crunch on stones,
For a voice to fling upward
Through sharp sunlight
With a name…… calling
Before the bird could call
Before the bird called.
Oh the bird was there alright
And sure it took flight
When it heard me approach
But it broke my heart
With a mighty croak!
So I’m sitting here playing
With a purple flower
Slender stem, no leaves
Purple fizz –
And it’s quiet again.
I am still
I am nothing
And the hill
Is a long, long slope
Down, down, down to the sea
Far below.
I could roll
I could run
I could scream
But I am nothing.
A cool wind blows
And the light is naked and nameless
And the rocks are faces of angels
And the bird in the sky wheels
And cries to forget the earth
And its ancient bones –
Oh, sensual pain –
Wings…. Wings…. Wings,
Singing wings.
If only I could begin
To describe the emptiness
Which fills me to the brim
With new breath
I might almost lose my name
And take instead a feather for my soul.
Tags: soul flight breath sky names wings emptiness nothing nothingness bird hill name
What is the price of freedom! I'm not talking about the physical restraining kind, but the spiritual, mental, emotional kind! If we glance at a tiny bird, it represents the ultimate freedom, the ability to fly, to rise above all, to look down on earth while getting tickled by clouds of cotton candy. But the price of this bird's freedom is living off scrapes of food
Larissa QatTags: life freedom spiritual living emotional bird mental fly
The soul is like a caged bird, it waits for the right person to open the door and set it free.
Belinda Taylor on "Soul"Again burst out that chant McKay had heard as he had floated through the mists upon the lake. Now, as then, despite his opened ears, he could distinguish no words, but clearly he understood its mingled themes - the joy of Spring's awakening, rebirth, with the green life streaming singing up through every bough, swelling the buds, burgeoning with tender leaves the branches; the dance of the trees in the scented winds of Spring; the drums of the jubilant rain on leafy hoods; passion of Summer sun pouring its golden flood down upon the trees; the moon passing with stately step and slow and green hands stretching up to her and drawing from her breast milk of silver fire; riot of wild gay winds with their mad pipings and strummings; - soft interlacing of boughs, the kiss of amorous leaves - all these and more, much more that McKay could not understand for it dealt with hidden, secret things for which man has no images.
("The Women Of The Woods")
Tags: natural nature moon trees spring tree bird pagan
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