Thursday, February 18, 2016

The Call


I found a lark

A broken wing had fallen her

I gently spoke and she heard

The resonating familiar tone; a healer

She summoned me.

Her wing was my call

Broken for the healer’s touch

“If I break” she knew

“He will fetch me”.

To draw a healer

                                                   
                                               She writes with a broken pen.

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