sometimes, i liken you to a songbird
carrying with them – the sweetest song
reserved for the most broken of people.
bright feathers, limited by no skies,
you take flight, subsiding on nectar
with the hummingbirds, soaring with
the seabirds. when the cries of the
mourning dove fills the skies, you
soothe it with your melody, and
when the dam breaks, no longer
keeping the hurt at bay,
you come, perch upon a
shoulder, signing your song.
hope comes together like
kintsugi - if even for a moment.
