So that birds may drink from me. . .

I am a bowl
a useful vessel

an empty space
waiting to be filled

I am clean and shiny
hollow and expectant

I wait for your need

but I dream of the day
that I may enter the garden

and catch the sweet raindrops
so that birds may drink from me

and when the velvet night gallops
sweeping fleet across the sleeping land

I will hold my circle up to the sky

and capture the silver moon
and all the million stars

dancing and shimmering
on my dark water surface

no longer an empty receptacle
but fulfilling my purpose

gathering starlight and tending to birds

The last line keeps changing, this is third one that has been published! Not to mention the two that weren't. It may well change again. . . I am having trouble settling on one purpose - but then again, perhaps that is the nature of bowls? ;-)

Inspired by the thursday think tank prompt
- to write from the perspective of an inanimate object

© Susannah Bec 2011