Lessons of the Past

The past is a bird fluttering

Wild in the cage of

Our guts

We must guide their sharp

Beaks up our soft

And wet organs, feel

Their feathers

Tickle our skin

From inside

Once in our mouth, we

Wrap them up in our tongues, hold

Them safe – is it safe? – with

Our teeth

The old adage goes that if you

Love something, you must let it go

-        That it loved you, too, when

It returns

So it is with our past: speak its

Wings onto your palm, safely nestled,

And watch as it darts into

The clouds

Those that are

You

Will return

You will see them

Descend as a shadow as

You glint towards

The sun

And with the softest of

Grips, their talons will

Hold onto your fingers

Human, lean over

Your shadow, and kiss

Their hot little heads

To welcome you

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