Mended Wing

A fragile bird,
damaged her wing,
a pain that burned,
she could not sing.

Voices she heard
made her ears ring,
the peaceful words,
eased aches and stings.

Outlines a blur,
harmony flings.
Angel returns,
hopeful upswing.

The scent of myrrh,
meets natures bling,
felt good to her,
energy zings.

Inner strength stirs,
a sacred sling,
healing occurs,
and pure love clings.

As her heart purrs,
wishes it brings.
Intent infers,
her flight past spring.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

22 thoughts on “Mended Wing

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  1. I had a cockatiel companion for many years (her name was Ernie–her previous owners had thought she was male, hence the weird name). This poem brings back wonderful memories of her. She had such a unique personality! I would play my guitar and sing to her and she absolutely loved it. ๐Ÿ˜€ She’s been gone for several years now and I still miss her characteristic chirps and finger-kisses. Well done, Grace. Thanks for the memories. ๐Ÿ™‚

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