Brave Little Natural Kings

I cannot think of your beautiful home
Of your beautiful land
All the places where you shine
No longer touch me, leaving a
throbbing pain in my rocking belly

All the brightness you descend with
used to bleach my hair and
wrinkle my eyes
Now just a broken bouquet of flowers
I brought you when you were gone

And I hope the dogs are still sleeping
full of little pup dreams
their necks owned like messengers
They've been trying to tell you
their secrets and their truths

And I hope the birds are still singing
maybe even more so
fluttering to your side, bellowing and bereaving
in your perfectly formed ear
They are saying what you want to hear

Brave little natural kings
all swinging with sticks and makeshift shields
they are born of the earth and Gods in their own rite
Squawking and scraping, sleeping and singing
They are the beasts of waiting

Deny them not, they come to teach
with your wingless back and your clumsy feet
your naked skin and your imperfections
Blinded by desire, lovesick with wanting
They behold you daily

I send them, I send them
I speak with them every morning
they tell me you are waking and scrawling on paper
drinking nothing but water and eating nothing but labour
They hate to see my poor eyes suffer

They lie when I ask if you remember
They avoid my questions about your delights
They look at me with sheepish eyes and blushing faces
There are only two who are brave enough to say your name
They see the cynic, the stoic, the scoundrel beneath your parchment frame

Fading fast, the Owl coos the answers
and the Whale holds me tight as I weep
The Stag sleeps beside my bed, protector and lover
The Frog reminds me to go back to the water
and the Lion brother's eyes have become softer

And here, I have no wings
I discarded them years ago
with the hope I could walk next to a soul toucher
With my feathers in his hair
But he was never there.