Place me among the breast of the blue jay when it claps its wings,
that I too may turn concave,
blown back by its power’s rush,
soaring as though I’m independent
of its speckled robe wings.
Place me among the breast of the blue jay when it claps its wings,
that I too may turn concave,
blown back by its power’s rush,
soaring as though I’m independent
of its speckled robe wings.
Alphabet Ravine 
Wonderfully mystical!
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