A grounded ‘bird’

I woke at 5 am
sat through a storm
watching lightening scrawl the walls
spotlighting dark recesses
the traffic of thoughts,
at times, gridlocked
was louder than the thunder
vibrating along solid foundation
I thought I saw rain, maybe felt it too
but I was still inside
contained,
within a safe cocoon
I watched it trickle down the window pane
once removed
the beat was a rhythm
not upbeat, not even vaguely familiar
and I knew
there was no dance left in me
the dawn, was stronger than the storm
it broke through the muscled clouds
from the silence
I heard the familiar winged flight of waterbirds,
smaller birds, too
Oriented to home
I walked in a garden, freshened by rain
saw a feather and from the quill,
a message for me
birds rest in the darkest hour of the night
and at first light, may shed what they don’t need
to make the launch lighter
but despite the discard,
their wings are still wings
so they fly the charted course
the last stretch
in a flock, a pair, or alone
as nature intended.

a dawn bird