Flight of the fading song
At the crack of dawn a shadow emerge,
A majestic bird seen leaving his perch.
His feast of juniper, blueberry, birch and pine,
Traces of his presence, visible to the trained eye.
The dance we make, him and I
I lurk, he perch,
While I continue my search,
A biologist studying an elusive bird.
I search for him in winter,
And once again in spring.
The snow falls like soft feathers,
— I don’t notice a thing.
My attention captured,
A dark plumage rising against the snow.
My mind enraptured,
The iridescent reflections of his breastplate’s glow.
The susurration of leaves gently caress my senses,
As if on cue he starts to sing and thus the show commences.
He sings an indescribable tune of words which I cannot comprehend,
Like a melancholy air of forgotten dreams slipping silently through where I stand.
A click cluck,
Pierces through the heart,
Stinging my eyes like a jellyfish barb.
A sudden clarity,
Revealing stories of tragedy,
Each word he sings falls heavily with gravity.
“Today I am here, so lend me your ears,
Be patient with me, as I tell you my fears.
Come every spring, the trees they disappear.
I can no longer recognise, the woods that I hold so dear.
What do I eat?
Where do I go?
There is no place left for my chicks to grow.
Tomorrow, I’ll be gone,
And it wouldn’t be long,
When all you’ll hear is an echo,
Of a faded majestic song…”