suspended birdies

sweet little bird

where does your heart cry?

to the east or the west?

two heads

opposing

each side

shall you remain suspended?

still for the many passer-bys?

leaving them to

wonder

wonder

wonder

which

way you will

fly?

can you take to the air?

and still be one?

can you soar seamlessly?

without becoming undone?

Tonight I had little time, but wanted to get my hands in some clay. I grabbed a little bit and played with it in my hand..first it was an angel, then a pregnant woman, then a bird..

I didn't like how the bird's tail was coming along, so I ripped it off..and I found that what I had was a two-headed bird in my hands. It was a curiosity to me, and got me to thinking. I finished it off, deciding to turn it into an ornament, so I put the ball on the top with a hole to pull a string through it. I wasn't too sure if I scored the little ball well enough. I wondered if it would come apart later. When I went to go take a picture of my odd little bird, I saw on my itouch that I had taken these pictures of birds up above my head a few days before while walking to the holiday parade in downtown Beverly.

Then this little poem came to me as I thought about my hanging ornament and those suspended birds up so high..