19 posts
  • harshad09 110w

    Swiming vivaciously
    through all those skies
    clear azure and blue
    trespassing the densely hollow
    mirages of spongy clouds
    my dancing , it had that only clue
    To amuse You
    To entertain You
    To pamper , the prettiest soul ,my love , in You

    Flaunting all of my ornamentation
    for choosing , for You
    the most loveliest , of habitat destination
    My yellow crown
    My black neck
    And that whitest patch of feathers
    ohh , that's my everything
    and now , that is only for You
    To , adore You
    To , resonate ,with You
    To , reciprocate , my love , for You

    Singing all the while
    all those sonnets , of love
    of every esteemed blue
    let the world term it
    trilled buzz , it's acceptable and due
    but with every single of my buzzy chip
    I really meant by that was , my effort
    To relocate You
    To assimilate , with You
    To rejuvenate , my love , for You



    But alas
    this my love , for You
    it proved out to be , unidirectional
    for , you just liked me , so , unintentional
    for all the while
    I had been waiting to hear
    from You , that echo , of love
    that one , clear and dawdler
    ohh my my , I never knew
    your affection , for me
    was always that kinda , as for
    some very cute toddler
    or rather
    for You , I was just another
    golden winged warbler
    that one , which
    sings , for You
    dances , for You
    but still , is a bird , tho lovely , for You

    And talk of me
    I was just like gifted
    with every lightlessness
    like just
    I had lost all of my senses
    for , I just couldn't sense
    the storm , it was on its way
    for , I never knew
    the temperatures shifting
    the wind , its speeds
    and directions , the world drifting
    simply , your love had blinded me
    I just couldn't know
    it was something like D-Day

    Or else , I could have eaten a lot
    to survive , the menace and the drought
    or else , I could have nestled
    under some Branch or a cavity, hidden
    though I might look like
    some insomniac,
    healthy , yet bedridden
    or else , I could have grown
    some thickish winter plumage
    that'd be saving me , from the cold damage
    or else , I could have put up some fight
    to survive , that storm and its plight

    I have survived the blow
    I have been through it , crouching low
    I had to hunker down , though
    and now , the storm
    it's gone
    Gone with the wind
    and now as I try , to take stock
    I know , I've lost my flock
    and I'm in the verge of extinction ,
    it's the last block
    But still
    I can see , those wreckages
    still , I can feel the pain , of damages
    I can still visualize it all
    my imaginery nest and its final call
    those broken walls , of belief
    that lost roof , of hope
    those shattered eggs , of dreams
    dreams that used
    to describe , You
    to dance , around You
    to sing , about You
    to dream , and , to dream
    just about You

    For , though , I've survived
    this deadly storm
    But I've lost all the Charm
    For now , I've lost , You


  • thunderbird__ 110w

    Thank you so much @writersnetwork and @mirakee for the kind repost. ����

    i was trying to create the
    origami of my smile
    from the wings of Caladrius
    flying towards crestfallen hearts
    teleporting the universe
    to the seventh heaven

    bearing the heart spasms
    from dusk to dawn
    after shifting unknown emotions
    meeting me at the intersection
    deep into my cavern

    and your were writing elegies to life
    keeping them in sheath of poetries
    narrating your story as the
    Bad orphan bird condemned
    to live in darkness beneath water

    your words pricked my night's sleep
    so i rushed to the magical island
    of Buyan gathering the
    enchanting melodies of Alkonost

    and singing them to you
    scribbling the song of rebirth

    you caressed my speckled feathers
    turning them all golden
    naming me Garuda, the king of birds

    together we painted the Halcyon
    calming the mayhem of our lives
    with dazzling strokes of red

    one night, i read about Boobries
    i told you about their art of imitation
    how they mimic the cries of injured
    for their act of hunting

    you asked me if i knew about Stymphalian
    and i didn't nod my head

    you grabbed me by neck
    and reduced me to vestiges
    screaming out loud
    "I'm one of them"

    now i sit in a void
    with closed eyes
    hiding away from the sky

    trying to draw the wings
    of Phoenix

    looking for myself

    Ps : Name of ancient birds - Caladrius, Alkonost, Bad Orphan Bird, Garuda, Halcyon, Boobrie, Stymphalian

    Phoenix is the bird said to have rising from the ashes

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay #pod #birdc #halcyonc #writersbay #mirakee #writersnetwork #write

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    Before we met,
    I was trying to create my smile from the wings of Caladrius,
    now I'm trying to find myself, drawing the wings of Phoenix.


  • sruthisankari 110w

    #birdc #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #challenge
    Like most birds that wait out their storms, it is safe for most of us to wait out our hardest times with all the strength we have. And then, we can fly.

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    Until the storm passes

    Angry bolts of lightning
    Sparkling storm clouds frightening
    The barometer in my mind
    Knows what human forecasters find
    The violent rains will soon be back
    I have to prepare and find my pack
    Gobbling all the food I can get
    I set out in search of a safe deck
    Or a bush, warm and thick
    For their fellow birds and families big
    When I was all adventurous and young
    Storms were interesting, until it choked my lung
    Not all of us are eagles to fly up across
    Or the safe and swimmer Albatross
    So, we wait till the storm passes
    Only a few hours and nests are losses
    Sometimes minutes, sometimes hours, or days
    After that in clear light the sky will blaze
    Then in safety and joy, we will fly
    Zooming all over the horizon and up high!

  • tezpallabdas 110w


    Other birds run away from the storm
    But the eagle plunges right into it ,
    Flies high up the sky's dorm
    Using the turbulence to its benefit.

    The fierce storm pushed the eagle
    To showcase the act of boldness,
    Which it did by reaching the unreachable,
    While it was rewarded with the ,vision's broadness.

    Once the storm , it flew above ,
    It got rid of the rough winds' wrath,
    And it took less efforts to rove,
    Around , victorious over the storm in its path.

    So , it's necessary to embrace change,
    And tackle the obstacles instead of avoiding,
    Only then one can lose the chains,
    And get rid of all the sufferings.


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    Eagle's View

    (Read the caption)

  • thelunareclipse 110w


    I fly through the storms,
    Sent by Almighty Gods,
    In my eyes lightning is sharp,
    Not a thunder can me stop.

    I flash the night with a blazing light,
    And go against heavy rainfalls.
    I spread widely my massive wings
    To protect those who needs a shield.

    With thunderstorms,i appear,
    I fly down from the skies,
    Only followed by wild winds,
    And go back with thunderbolts.

  • angels_halo_shines 110w

    The Momma Bird in the Storm

    My feathers in the rain repel every drop.
    I sit perched on a tree, as the warm air blows.
    The air whips through my feathers.
    I spread my wings, and shake the water down the branch.
    I then fly to the next branch.
    Looking down the ground is perfect to find worms for my young.
    I fly down, in search of fresh food.
    A small peck in the wet ground.
    With luck on my side, there are the worms.
    I take my tiny beak, and in flight to my young.
    The storm, blows slows my flight.
    Making it to my nest, I cover my young during their feeding.
    Warming them, comforting with my motherly touch.
    I can now rest, knowing the storm will pass through.

    #birdc #writersnetwork #ceesreposts #empath #empathmind #rain #storm #mirakee #writersofmirakee #writersbay

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    The Momma Bird in the Storm

  • tsalabutiejess 110w

    Series of Unfortunate Events

    Alas 'tis morn the birds sing such sweet melody
    Hath thee spirit call to thy innocence?
    Precious creatures this land shall shelter
    Heretofor no wrongs shall touch them
    Ghastly wind piously shall blow
    Knocking down their nest atop from yonder high
    Ignorance of nature's compassion- grace

  • _mathematics 110w

    Let's migrate to an abode
    Soon before the sunsets.
    Rain is going to pour.
    Hurry up until the Storm gust,
    Hold together yourself from the dust
    Watch out the starry lightning
    Shaping the aura to beautiful sighting

    Traverse the path by inferring it as a hardship
    Thunderstorm defies the grieving soul
    Make it your hope of good and move on
    Until we reach the place, where we have never gone.

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #birdc

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    Lightning and rumble above the sky
    Going to be rain in a time while
    Feel the tinge of every drop over you
    and make a path to the place,
    we have never been to

  • _an_on_ 110w

    Relieving my mum from her onerous placenta
    first ever I see the climatic June in tundra
    I slip, I skid, I stumble on the boggy earth
    in my effort to pick up the mollusk
    then begins my journey of flight
    when mum takes me to the height
    over the permafrost, over the bogs,
    over the shrub, or the conifers,
    the sandy shore
    where at last I endure
    I perceive the first heavy rain
    after mum leave me after 40 days of pain
    not so merrymaking, not so fun,
    nor amusement, nor even gratification,
    are there in the motivational rain
    that scarcely left any impact in my puny brain
    rather paucity of nourishment
    and unshielded shelter the rain begets.
    For once, the day occurs
    when I receive hardship in dreadful pleasure,
    amid the violent wind and the gale,
    breaking the knot, surviving against the hurricane
    not that pleasurable activity
    for storm is just the painful phase of adaptability.


    Placenta - The placenta is an organ that develops in your uterus during pregnancy.

    Tundra - Arctic region of Europe, Asia, and North America.

    Permafrost - A thick subsurface layer of soil that remains below freezing point.

    Pain - Great care or trouble.

    About : Whimbrel



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  • bclark2681 110w

    Tsunami Upon Eagle

    Storm is in approach as I glide
    Within the grey clouded sky
    Hunting for prey for my young
    Seconds later, torrential rivers fall
    From the torn open heavens like a
    Tsunami crashing towards a shoreline
    And I lose site of preys location
    I now make my way above the clouds
    Away from the tempest, awaiting
    The closure of the heavens

  • falak_k 110w

    I ventured out to get some fresh air, feel better
    But the weather just betrayed me
    Cause suddenly started a nerve wrecking storm
    And i had to hide under this unknown tree

    But please, mom and dad
    Don't come out in my search
    Take care of my little siblings instead
    Who need you inside the birch

    Just like how the river flow can't stop
    And we can't resist to fly
    Time too changes constantly

    And people, well they too change and adapt
    In order to flow smoothly like water in the river
    But it ain't that easy to give up old practices
    In doing so, they might shake and shiver

    Lettings your kids fight their own war
    Is an art to which you're a stranger
    All i hope is that you believe in my capability
    And don't put your own lives in danger

    Writing this from a young bird's point of view who is away from her family during the storm.

    Prompt by @writersbay Hope i did justice to it

    #ceesreposts #birdc #writersnetwork

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    I ventured out to get some fresh air, feel better
    But the weather just betrayed me
    Cause suddenly started a nerve wrecking storm
    And i had to hide under this unknown tree

    But please, mom and dad
    Don't come out in my search
    Take care of my little siblings instead
    Who need you inside the birch

    Just like how the river flow can't stop
    And we can't resist to fly
    Time too changes constantly

    And people, well they too change and adapt
    In order to flow smoothly like water in the river
    But it ain't that easy to give up old practices
    In doing so, they might shake and shiver

    Lettings your kids fight their own war
    Is an art to which you're a stranger
    All i hope is that you believe in my capability
    And don't put your own lives in danger

  • bclark2681 110w

    Crow in Thors Storm

    I am the crow that soars, carrying souls
    Home to the gates of the hereafter
    Flying in the face of tremendous danger,
    Fighting through the created storm of
    Thor, God of thunder and lighting,
    Wind and rain, protecter of mankind
    Drawing me into his grasp to claim
    The soul as his own in the halls of Valhalla
    To live, feast, and battle with the great
    Warriors of a long lost Viking past

  • bluepuppy01 110w

    #bluepup #bluestory #cyanentry
    #ceesreposts #bayentry

    • Warning: Lengthy!
    • Warning: Switches thru like 3or4 POVs
    (POV change symbol: ~~~~~~~~~)
    • Sorry in advance for any mistakes
    (�� I had an aggravating headache
    while I was writing)

    Entry for @cyan_rose challenge #blue_raindropthoughts &
    @writersbay challenge #birdc

    P.S. �� my original idea was to write something using the 269th prettypic from my @azureabyss prompt acc and then use that to help me write an innocent love story between a raindrop and a human girl (don't judge me- there's literally a movie out there about love between a human and a bee). Anyways, yeah, this is not that...idk why this happened...or even what happened.
    Materialized Dream
    Lost in an abyss of inspiration- a world carrying too many things to write about in one armful, a young lady sits in a dim room with only a single lamp lit in the corner. Before her, lying in wait on the cherry-stained, beech wood desktop is an open journal- pages blank. With her legs folded underneath her on the chair, elbows leaning forward, and cheeks resting on the knuckles of her closed hands, she boredly stares out the window, letting her gaze unfocus. The falling rain blurs in her vision.

    Her thoughts want to wander, yet her mind reins them in, not allowing them to drift too far from within the safety of their home. Thus, the thoughts as if put in time-out, stay there and do nothing but pout, but when the mind isn’t paying full attention, they’ll sneakily go out beyond the set boundaries, trying to explore as much as they can, then run back before their absence has been noticed. One mischievous explorer, however, roamed too far and didn’t come back for a while.


    I seem to have found a lost child. Though, perhaps she’s the one who found me first. I was falling from the sky, as per usual on a rainy day, for I take my job seriously and don’t laze about like those drought fiends. Then out of nowhere, I see an outstretched hand reaching towards the sky appearing directly on my course for land! Now, this unplanned scenario is playing out where, after this little girl caught me in her palm, I am confused as to how to proceed from this destination I wasn’t destined to be.

    Oh no! Now she’s twirling! Ugh, her spinning is making me dizzy! And the racket! Oh this strange noise doesn’t help at all! I prefer the melody of thunder to sound in my ears, not human roars! What do they call this outrageous echo?


    “Laughter, silly,” a young voice giggles.

    “Ugh! Yes, laughter. That’s it. Wait, what? Who said that?"


    *The hand that holds the raindrop rises up to meet face to face with the little girl* "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you’re doing?! Rainfall isn’t meant to rise!"

    “I just wanted to see you up close,” the girl with joy ringing in her voice says whilst observing the droplet with curious eyes.

    “How can you hear me?” the splash of water asks with suspicion.

    “I don’t know. Maybe ‘cause I’m not human,” the girl shrugs.

    “Not human? How is that possible?! You’re clearly wearing their flesh! You talk like them! And even laugh like them!” the raindrop counters.

    “Nuh-uh! See, look what I can do!” shouts the girl as she raises her other hand for the raindrop to see. The fingers begin to disappear- no, not disappear, but warp into wisps like the tail ends of a ghost’s gown perhaps. Her skin color fades and seems to blend in with the gray surroundings how a chameleon would. Soon, her hand returns to its normal appearance.

    “Wha-? How? How did you do that? What are you?”

    “Ha! You believe me now!” she says victoriously, then answers, “I am simply a dream created by my human. I have tons of brothers and sisters too, but we don’t have our own names. They just call us ‘thoughts’ or ‘daydreams’”

    “Dream? Thoughts? How is that possible? Are you telling me that all the people we see aren’t even all humans?” the raindrop begins to mumble to itself as it speaks.

    The girl, now a bit bored by the conversation, says, “I don’t know. Maybe.”


    The raindrop and the dream are startled by a grating shriek and a loud thump. Turning every which way, they look around for the source. That’s when they spot a crow getting back up on its feet in front of the tree near the mailbox.


    I. Ran. Into. A. Tree. Why? Because I saw some sorcery going on, that’s why! Like seriously, one second I was flying to this tree to get some shelter from the rain and the next, SPLAT, I crashed straight into the thing all because I looked away for a bit.

    I peer over towards the human wearing a yellow raincoat, hat, and rubber boots. I coulda sworn I just saw its hand disappear and then reappear like glints of sun but without the shine. It seems to be talking to its other one. Oh, here it comes. It’s walking over here. Oh no...is it one of them crazy people who worship crows or something? Not again! Why is it always me they try to mess with?! I gotta get out of here! Accursed storm! The rain is pouring harder and my wings are already soaked, so I don’t make it into the air in time before it approaches me.


    “It’s a crow,” the dream says as she slowly walks up to the bird struggling with its wet wings.

    “So it is,” says the raindrop, “Why are you just walking up to it? What if it attacks us?!”

    “It’ll be fine. Not like it can hurt me or anything- if it can even see me that is.”

    “Oh right...but still, crows are such filthy creatures. In all my time working for the water cycle, I’ve only landed on a crow once. And I never wanna touch one again!” the raindrop ripples- an equivalent to goosebumps or perhaps shivers up the spine.

    “I won’t let him touch you. I just wanna see a crow up close. I’ve never been out this far and haven’t seen much of anything.” A gleam reawakens in the dream’s eyes as curiosity resurfaces from within her very being.

    “Caw! Caw!” The crow cries for it hasn’t yet learned that almost nothing can kill a dream’s curiosity.


    A dream steps through a storm to meet a bird widely feared as a creature of evil. However, soon, lightning strikes down far off in the distance at the same time a little girl starts vanishing. The dream child begins to fade. Her form, as if confused as to what it is supposed to be in the first place, distorts, warping back and forth between the shape of a human and a cloud of fog. A droplet of water slips off her palm and falls to the ground. Now, only a transparent strand of thought exists among the rain, across from a nightmarish crow, and hovering above a poor raindrop who lost her way in the human world.

    The dreamy wisp, seemingly weighed down by gravity but tugged by the winds, is pulled away by a mysterious force into the nearby countryside cabin. Inside a particular room, sits a young lady whose head rests on one arm lying on a desk- the other arm splayed out across a journal open to a blank page. Drool slowly streaks down one side of her chin. Just as her eyelids begin to flutter awake, a dream who had wandered to the outside world returns to its realm of imagination, reuniting with the thoughts just like it.

    The lady awakens with a heavy yawn and a stretch of the limbs. Whilst sluggishly wiping her eyes from their sleep and lapping up the drool with her tongue, last night's dream dawns upon her. Suddenly, her sight darts out the window- still raining, yet morning light somehow seeps in through the glass sparkling with raindrops. She follows a single droplet with her gaze as it slides down meticulously in its strange, squiggly pattern. Shaking her head out from its daze, she then picks up a pen and hastily begins to jot down words she won’t allow to escape- thoughts she hopes stay long enough to enter the papery doorway of her journal and into the story she will create.


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    Materialized Dream

  • mariyamsara 110w

    The Bird of Storm

    It was like the white snow
    So very pure
    With an eye of Darkness
    Right at the centre
    She was awed by its magnificence
    By its never ending void
    She knew she had to run away
    But how could she
    When the magnet was pulling her
    A strong gush of wind
    Washed past Her
    Rustling her dainty feathers
    Knocking her breath out
    The delicate twigs in a war
    Battling to stay intact
    While she grips onto
    The stronger branches
    Hoping the frail leaves
    Would shelter her
    Oh, how wrong she was
    To think so silly,
    And as time passed by
    The branches lost its strength
    Snapping by half
    The leaves left their home
    Soaring in the wind
    The roots began to give up
    And sooner than later
    It loosened it's grip
    Just like her,
    And thus, a great tree fell
    Along with the lives on it
    By time, the peace was restored
    Yet people could not find the bird
    Saddened by the fact
    They decided to go about with life
    And they failed to see
    The beak peeking out
    Of the heap of leaves
    Waiting for a clear
    To spread her wings
    No one knew what happened
    To the beautiful soul
    And thus, she was named
    The one who left with the storm,
    The Bird of Storm.


    I hope it isn't too long to read.

    #birdc #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #ceesreposts @writersnetwork @mirakee @writersbay

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  • summiya_daires 110w

    I am small..
    But I have needs..
    I even have heart..
    But only need true soul ..
    Long junction towers stand still even in the stroms..
    Killing plenty of us...
    Every Strom comes some teaching ..
    Some seeking...
    I learn..
    I lose..
    I fail..
    I live...

  • rekhuu 110w

    I'm an Eagle, I love the storms
    as it gives me strength to fly higher
    We birds can detect low pressure
    associated with the coming storm. .

    When bad weather hits, other birds
    seek micro habitats & get out of the way
    for protecting them from wind & rain
    and wait for it to pass. .

    While some eat up or hang on
    I avoid the storm & fly above it
    Strong hooked beaks & powerful talons
    are my deadly weapons. .

    My appearance bestows freedom
    & courage to look ahead
    My vision and concentration is greatly lauded
    I'm a man's connection to the divine. .

    Thank you so much @writersbay ❤️

    #imagery #wod
    Thank you for the like WN ��

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    Flying alone
    Calm & composed
    Rising above the storm
    Staying strong &
    Soaring higher.!


  • pathways_of_words 110w

    Over the clouds do the blackbirds soar.
    Seeing the electric laced streams of brazen power.
    Understanding that past the troubles and trials there's so much more.
    Enjoying the flight, not stressing every hour.

    Above the storm, focused toward the horizon where it will eventually end.
    Listening to the drumbeats of a solemn, awareness of waking.
    To see that the adversities of life being an open opportunity to be a friend.
    Comforted in the results when it's cold, when through the fear we're shaking.

    No shadows falling from the beating, beautiful sun.
    Soaring through the haze of misty waves of moisture.
    Fret not, this flight will keep until the rumbling is done.
    To find an enigmatic peace of mind, finding closure.

    Above the storm, let's learn from this blackbirds flight.
    All that's important is here in the now.
    Having our days and having our nights.
    Making our way through the chaos, loving each other, and ourselves, somehow.


    #ceesreposts #writersnetwork

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    Above The Storm


  • daffodilpearlzz 110w


    Breaking the shells of an egg piece,
    The little passerine opened its eyes.
    It was born to the high mountain avifauna.
    It learnt the skills, sang chirps and grew good.
    But one day, it became the mighty bird.
    Flapping its royalty to wing to the high sky.
    The long journey of migration,
    to the country of aesthetic spring.
    It winged away from frozen winter snow,
    to blossom spring and glow.
    But somewhere, one day, came the thunder,
    And it ached from the pierce of hunger.
    All exhausted did it fly, throughout.
    The winds tried to throw him out.
    The storm pushed its wings,
    And he felt like his soul was thrown like a ball.
    Slowly, lowered to dignity and earth.
    His wings slowly ceased and he rested
    for while he felt himself facing death.
    Not always is flight a euphoria of delight.


  • writersbay 110w

    Write a prose/poem through a bird's point of view during a storm. It can be any bird.

    Tag and share with #birdc

    Background credits - @aureate

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    Do birds like storms?