Blue Songbird
BelliranER
Blue Songbird of Mine
Heavy storm clouds once blinded my sight,
Back then, when you landed on my palm mid-flight.
The beat of your wings opened a crack in the sky —
letting me see the beauty in the sunshine.
It was you by my side all along —
oh, blue songbird of mine.
My eyes are still clouded—yet no longer blind.
The voice of your song carried a warmth
I never imagined I could find.
With your gentle landing upon my hand,
you brought me a long-awaited sign —
oh, beautiful blue songbird of mine.
The following text does not explain the work.
It reflects what shaped it.
There are moments that do not arrive as beginnings, but as something that remains when continuation was no longer certain.
What appears here is not rescue, and not restoration.
Nothing that was broken returns to what it was.
And yet — something holds.
Not by force,
not by certainty,
but by a presence that does not withdraw when everything else has.
A presence that does not ask to be understood, nor to be named —
only to remain.
It does not resolve what came before.
It does not change what was endured.
It stays.
And in staying,
something within is allowed
to continue.