little bird, stand
wherever you land
and the world will come gather you in
and you will be at home
with your friend or two, there
you'll be happy,
with whatever nest
you begin
a season or two
will pass by, by your leave
and you will be at home
'til that change in the air -
till the wind picks you up,
and your place rolls away
far below under you
and behind
you will stay
fixed,
flying forward and high
in your place
in the sky -
keeping pace
with the wind
until you angle down
where it looks like a place to begin
again,
now
and the world will come gather you in.
1 comment:
I hear music with this one!
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