On Longing

Birds

0214.2025

The restless bird in my breast

Sings the sun to set lower,

Sings to your gentle face,

Bottomless eyes,

Sings, and is singing still

The bird in my blood

Sings to the moon

Sings of your  hands

And unraveled soul,

Sings of its flame -

Now in my waking dream

The bird in my body

Sings to the bird in your body

Sings you to your other half,

Sings you to yourself.

m.c.f.