t r u s t



In the midst
of an existence,
clouded by
a logic,
by an illogical
I can’t help
but feel
as the the
little bird,
looks at me,
picks up the
piece .
of offered bread,
still untrusting
of the motives,
it has learned
to know.

Fluttering away,
with its meal
held tight,
between the
secure folds
of its beak,
the look
of a thief,
teasing my
but connecting
with the soul,
and I break out
into a smile,
for how far
have we
traveled now,
that even
those that
really fly free,
doubt the intentions
of those,
that only claim
to be.




Author: vidur sahdev

Living life...as it comes!

4 thoughts on “t r u s t”

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