new moon

silver sliver
hanging mid-heaven
fixed in charcoal sky
keeping currents high
restless rivers running
rushing relentlessly
to find
exchanging quivers
letting go
of strings
to fly
on elemental wings
to hear a sound so sweet
as the bluebird sings
with everything she brings
encompassing many things
the songbird knows not why she sings
nor asking why she flies
her nature feels it in her heart
innately it is time.

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