The seagull
Once I saw a seagull,
with his wings wide he floated above the horizon.
He looked determined,
his persistent howl sounded convincing.
Once I saw a dead seagull,
with wings broken laying flat on the ground.
He looked empty,
his orange beak didnt make a sound.
I once was a girl.
With my arms spread I ran into freedom.
I looked at ease,
my voice was clear and open .
I saw this girl changing.
With her arms crossed, and her head bent down,
she looked anxious.
Her voice was restricted, mostly she kept quiet.
I have floated like the majestetic seagull in the air.
I have been broken like the lifeless bird on the ground.
I have been convincing.
I have been restricted.
I guess its not black and white
I am not the one or the other
I have been both,
still I am.
Dear Leah, your poem really touches me.
ReplyDeleteI try to formulate my thoughts and the questions which were born and crossing my mind.. black or white, so opposite and still one person, one soul! We feel black or white and the others feel our color too. But does it depend on us, on others/ the situation/ their energy... How can one soul be so different?
Dear Leah, I just wrote what came in my mind, I might have interpreded your poem different than it was your intention or what you felt (therefore I generelly find it very difficult to interprete and understand other people poems). Thank you for sharing it!
Dana