A Morning Bird

I heard a song burning the walls until the dawn. I sang the sounds drawn on the earth. I heard their thoughts with hammering mirth. They were alive. I opened my arms. The waves of tension blew me abroad. I looked for my home, delving into earth. I found a pair of eyes. They were just born. Pounding as they were, eager to survive, I dug in deeper, longing to recognize the traces of the soil, looking for a way out. I felt the laws of Boyle. No time left to doubt. Before I was torn, I searched for a last word. When I sang the song, mourning for the bird.