The birds sang so loud that they became the music

The twittering echo of summer laced into the chill of winter

And weaved into the warmth of the sun in a tapestry

Of shadow and light, day and night

And dewdrops cling to the grass from the night before

Like a mother to her baby in a hospital ward

A hand to the chest, a mouth to the breast

From breathing to suckling, one body to the next

From the arms to the legs, the muscle to the flesh

From day until night, from birth until death

Marriage, divorce and a crack in the tree

So dark we don’t feel, so bright we don’t see

Overlapped patterns with nowhere to be

Just weaving together to varying degrees