I am bound to you;
You are my friend.
I am your lost;
You are my found.
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Journey, suffering –
Does not matter.
My rest – your shelter,
Our entanglement resides.
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My black to your creases;
Bold colors to your bleak land.
My solace – your support;
My friend, my dear hand.
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This little bird tugged at my heart the first moment I found his picture. I feel such emotion for him; it appears that his find is all that matters in the world.
The initial feeling is one of sadness, but my worry for the bird is heavy and deeper; it reminds me of all the suffering of the innocent and helpless. It is something I carry, subconsciously, every day – worry, darkness, fear.
Sometimes I am that bird: helpless, searching, alone.
This image also soothes me: The gracious relief is superimposed onto the dark and uncertain beneath it; it is comfort in the midst of the uncomfortable.
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