The Act of Submission

The Act of Submission

The act of submission is an old familiar bird

She can coax you with her wingspan or outfly the mighty herd.

She will ever deter you in your search for an escape

What you can’t see is the more that you use her, she’s your cage.

Invisible battles are her trademark and her rule

Clever with her suffering she prepares her salty pool.

With a glance down or a half frown, breaking hearts without a bite

She reminds you of her virtue, pleading softly, spare her life.

What you don't know will compel you to pursue her mysteries

She is cavernous and crafty, shifting shape just as you please.

When you’re sleeping she is counting all the ways you did her wrong

In the morning there is silence as her absence triggers dawn.

The act of submission with her feathers nearly gone

Is still waiting in the hammock, swinging gentle, hanging low.

If you stand upon her porch and you show her what you've learned

She will override your feelings, gushing forth her own concerns.

The act of submission is an old familiar bird.