LUGNET News : ~1112/Poetry/Phoenix/


Matt Hein / Poetry / Phoenix /

Ballad of the Avians

Ballad of the Avians. Written 04-03-03 By M. Aaron Hein.

I originally wrote this poem to reflect my thoughts on human ambition towards dreams and the truth upon actualization of them...and to believe it could all start with the wings of a canary...

How can one epitomize the wafting
of spring blossoms, the fluttering of
sparrows in the eaves,

wordless songs that seemingly deceive?

of chrysanthemum?

Divulge to me

your fervor,

graceful liberation

of your audacity,

how you can join those avians coasting
endlessly amongst those skies, the tradewinds
of the seas serving little for displacement,

whilst I fail to take flight, to my distastement?

How, in the midst of the spring air, you
can detach yourself from reality,
gliding and landing light as a feather
as though you can see

with filtered vision...

The truth humans aren’t meant to seek?

whilst those industrious plummet from the
heavens,

Labaled by the gods, those avian lords as
foolish and meek?

Perhaps...men are not meant to emulate
the wind
to insinuate
their avian kin?
to transcend
those heavens within?
to dissent
against natural laws therein?

Or is it?

All so simple,
those answers eluding logistics
we believe so
sophisticated, yet on the scope
so simplistic
naturally integrated?

Perhaps not...

With the fading of the wind, some memories
flourish, but only with the manicure of
acknolwledgement...

or surreptitious motion

perhaps it’s human nature,

in spite of death

to pursue noble stature?

or remain bereft?

of what we ask? Of resource of life,
perhaps?
The essence of vivacity an endless
journey to broaden our limits, our horizons
until we reach the heavens, the stars?

and then what?

to sprout wings like the avians and coast
endlessly?

Sounds short of euphoria

a prospect I neither harbour nor envy...

dreams serve as the engine of human ambition

and yet fulfillment of them only merits the
necessitation to ascend to limits
unfathomable

yet, in this process, we displace the truth
of the falcon, to coast without worry, carried
by the breeze.

Perhaps that is the nature of humanity, to
adjust these limits within reason....

or perhaps, within season?

fin...

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