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North American Dreaming: The Day's Gift

The true wonder of this world is to be found in something as simple, and complex, as a feather, as William Burkholder reveals.

Bill's poems change the way one views the world. To read more of them please click on North American Dreaming in the menu on this page.

A feather fluttered down to me,
Free at last,
From some branch or tree,

I held it in my hand so slight,
And let the sun,
Play with its light,

A tuft of moss;
Its passenger too,
Doubling the joy this day,

On wing and feather,
From where did it come?
A phoenix of beauty and sighs?

A nested bird,
In flight per say,
Never the less,

A gift this day,
Feather in my hand so light,
Another beauty of nature's sight.

Drifting,
Floating,
Coming to me,

O, that we could be so free,
Like the feather,
That fluttered from the tree.


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