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38. “A wet bird never flies at night.” (My grandfather said that to me when I was a child and warned me not to forget it. I remember his words but never did figure out what he meant!)
If you turn the imagination loose like a hunting dog, it will often return with the bird in its mouth.'(from "The Front and the Back Parts of the House", 1991)
Leaving your dreams and living someone's dreams is like dipping a pole into a pool to catch a weaver bird alive! It doesn't work that way... Pursue what God sent you for!
Wake up wild one! Your mind is a cageless bird waiting to fly to uncharted lands. Like the phoenix, you'll rise again with renewed vigor, clarity, compassion and insight.
And though, truly, she sometimes felt like something inside her had disappeared, it seemed that must be a natural part of growing up. Standing out too much made one feel too alone to do it forever.
Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass byBetween shrouds of life and haze sun rays die
Then came nightthat was like falling water.At times, for hours, a bird spirit, half buzzard, half swan, just above the rushesfrom which a snow-storm howls.
Warner. A white bird with streaks of gold like a crown atop its head. A fair - skinned boy with gold hair, the leader of Sector 45. It was always him. All along . The link.
I heard a bird sing in the dark of December. A magical thing. And sweet to remember. We are nearer to Spring than we were in September. I heard a bird sing in the dark of December.
Teddy shuddered. The idea of the sublime little bird being plucked from the sky, of its exquisite song being interrupted in full flight, was horrible to him.
I have all the power, but you will destroy me. “Only your walls, Lark.” He deepened the kiss, licking into my mouth as if he knew he’d find me there hiding from him.
Sturdy swimmers afloat on water-couch Beneath the heavy bill their treasured pouchFishes pray for them to fly far away Inland lakes toast to the Pelican’s day
It was as if someone had leftthe bird thereas a kind of telegramof feathers, oily feathersthat looked like they’d struggled, shuttered a little before letting gointo flightforever.