Plumage like cotton flaps in haste

Passed irises expanded with light

Come to me you who dares to not

Be thine muse like God to the fallen angel

For your taste is not savory

But something I long for still

 

You are the moon to my sun

Why must it be my glow that helps you shine?

Fret not, for I’ll halt my complaints

I am thy patron

Benign in all I am

Praying for your touch

To not ignite a fear of rage

But to startle an urge greater than desire

 

I, who am weakened by your pearlescent gaze

Brought to tears by your silent lips

Wrenched at the heart by your iridescent hue

Am revived once more by your gentle chirps

 

The feathered creature for a moment lies

Within my sight along the horizon

I bid myself to observe him shrewdly

To stare at the tainted plumage

With dried terrain and marks of life

 

I stare not longer and take my leave

But he ceases to bid adieu

And warbles out a plea

To which I find myself entranced

 

I, like a demon to the Devil

Or an angel to the Great

Am uncertain if I’ve been beguiled

And have lost my will

To thine unkempt beauty

 

I cannot mask my sleeves with indifference

I cannot conceal the truth of my being

So can your warbled tunes turn to hymns

And bless me with thy truest self

Completely, fully, wholeheartedly

Without plainness from your beating chest?

The eternal note of longing

Is quenched by my thrumming heart

For you say one word

I claim three

 

My limbs stretch charged with the purest hue

And you sweep a pied feather along my flesh

Before searing my skin with the swiftness of your leave

I bear the marks of adoration

My color now imbued with red

Tainted like your plumage

 

Like a ribbon in the wind you soar with vivid rapidity

And my irises expand at the thought of chasing you

You see,

I am not a bird

But you,

You make me want to fly

 

-Kiran Bains Sahota