Sometimes I want to say something
but nothing comes to my head—
sometimes I want to say something
but I feel so empty and dead.

Sometimes I want to write something
but the words jumble instead—
everything sounds trite and so boring
like the tandem thoughts in my head.

Sometimes I miss a far distant illusion
of something I wish had occurred—
true love and eternal profusion
that would turn my pain hazy blurred.

But sometimes I sing ever so brightly
the birds in the sky stop to watch—
and they join me together so spritely
kicking my tunes up a notch.

And suddenly I see it all so clearly
and the world sparks again with aglow—
for I feel You as nearly above me
as the shadow of black crows on snow.

*
©Yakira Shimoni Fulks
January 13, 2019 | OC, California
For Abba

Crows | Yakira Shimoni Fulks Art