I Hear A Bird That Whispers

This little heart which cries
to each beat upon a quiet storm
a tear drips, from withered high.

Her feathers wrapped
she cuddles to her breast
while others stand aloft
chirping - unconcerned
about her solitude
or the salty dew
in the mornings nest.

But far away - I hear
a broken heart which patters
and a little bird that cries
I hear a bird that whispers
and a little pieces of me…. just dies.

Delicate, my songbird
she matters more to me
then all the other birds
who simply fly…. on by.

No longer do I wish to hear
the whispers or the tears
I want to look towards the sky
so I can see my little bird
now flying……way up high.

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When you finally see the blue
the sun inside will shine
and then my little songbird
 - so will I