I listened to the birds
And they spoke to me with counting breaths
With a beat of wings and color’s snare
I felt them disband
Into the caravan of night
I was a part of this
And they, were a part of me
Morning of the birds
And a county of the Spring
Their songs still sing in me
Like ancient figures of speech
Feathers of Earth, dream of eyes
Everything in history is part of us.