Nightingales [Aviery, part III]

Nightingales [Aviery, part III]

A nightingale's symphony,
it sounds throughout the night;
with owls lost in memory,
nocturnal in their plight

Orchestrated murmerings,
turning on the wing
Echoes through a darkening,
a siren's song to sing

Ringing through a hollow night,
that used to feel full;
now empty... used to feel right,
the morning has its pull

as nightingales weave on through,
the fabric of their days
Storms sewn tight, their peace on view,
in envy of their ways

in envy of their outlook,
in awe of how they fly,
in spite of how their doubt took,
... in spite of greying sky

Trust torn, worn on bright feathers,
vulnerability on show
So just in flight, it weathers,
we should take the things we're owed

A catalogue of what we missed,
in wastelands, long gone by;
in fear of a lover's tryst,
so vulnerable, we fly

with hearts that give, yet cannot take,
whilst souls that suffer, sting
Owls cursed with wings that break,
when nightingales sing

Melodies dreamt not for me,
to venture out, explore;
to be part of a symphony,
... a part of something more

Hearts truths wing, they hold their sway,
as time uncaptured, flies
Owls weave, they reave their way,
through daylight's lullabies

Owls dreaming at lowlight,
with dusk a lonely draw
Owls swooping low at night,
whilst nightingales soar

Through splintered stars and gilded bars,
such time we're meant to spend
Let them know how loved they are,
before the singing ends

with owls lost in memories,
of daytime's dying light;
'midst nightingales' symphonies,
... sounding through the night