I make a nest for myself
out of my habits in the trees of the primal
my senses are my feathering
I preen as if a sense for awareness
I have flight
as if my dreams are the sky
where is it with you that I land?
we talk about the same wind
we have at it with weather
as if shared experience
seasons are reading to me with constancy
we, you and I, are migratory
our passion is blind-sidedness
as from here to there and back
nesting in my form of familiarity as featuring
sunrises and sunsets and midnight skies
are beyond our biological needs
my prayer is flight
my religion is space
thus offered for my whimsical existence
you and I are both part of the eternal flock
the whisper, in every wind
speaks to our spirits, most directly
we are birdacious
we both live to be taken up
to beyond where feathers are the talent to express
to beyond where sky is the medium
to showcase our imaginatives of love . . .
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