Song of a Captive Blackbird
For Ludwig von Ficker
Dark breath in the green branches.
Small blue flowers hover around the face
Of the lonely one, the golden step
Dying under the olive tree.
Night flutters up with drunken wing.
So gently humility bleeds,
Dew that slowly drips from blossoming thorn.
The compassion of radiant arms
Embraces a breaking heart.
© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt