Trying to capture the blue bird with a camera in the spindly tree with one flowered bud proved to be futile.

It has made me think once or thrice in the last hours since, that my love life was sorta similar.

Me equals the bluebird.

Sorta trapped in voice, caught up in a web that covered my hearts eye.

Searching for something so outside myself, I denied myself.

It comes with quite a jolt realizing I carried this torture for so long.

Pretending to  be strong. I wasn’t. Did I give everything I have?

Not quite, says a piece of my soul. It has been given back again.

Always resting.

In Gods hands.