Song Bird

It sings melodiously

high up on the tree, its voice

fills the air with nostalgia.

Memories from yesterdays

when we thought we knew it all

and frolicked to harmonies

played out by hundreds of them.

The sounds of orchestral bliss,

that followed us to the ground

where we would lie on the grass 

dreaming of what they could do

with those calls of emotion.

Then they would fly away fast,

in mass movement together

in an extraordinary 

escape from the whistler

who thought they might understand.

Perhaps they did; flew away

just to tell the other birds

what the girl  wanted to say:

that she loved their songs always,

and wanted them just to stay.

But then the sun would go down,

and we would run home to eat

forgetting about the one

who stayed to sing a lonesome

melody for the girl who 

understood what true love was:

it was you and me in dreams

from the future or the past.

We knew the birds and the bees

would lead us to each other 

someday, sending us love songs.

That's what I imagine now,

wIth the solitary bird

high up on it's lonely perch,

just waiting for its love mate.

Like I waited for you

even before I knew that

you were calling for me too.