Visitation

Although it appeared to be daytime, the world thought it was night. The winter haze made all the hours look the same. The snow that fell softly on my face melted as kisses - cold but not cruel. You flew down from the sky - filling all of my vision. My friend, I know it is you and yet I trembled in fear as you brushed my face with black feathers. So tenderly you fly across again, threatening to lash out, to fill the air with shrieks of rage and yet you land on my arm and I feel the power disguised in such a delicate shell. As I put you up in the tree as you morph again into another shape I cry for the beauty and the cruelty of your freedom.