Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Migrating Bird

They fly into your life like a migrating bird. They stay for a season, sing their songs, build their nests, make you glad to be alive.

Early one morning you wake up, the small white sun yet to climb over the skyscrapers. Your bedroom is dark and the sound of silence rings through the city. You try to remember what you were dreaming about. All you can recall is the sound of flapping wings. You close your eyes and go back to sleep.

Bleary eyed, you stumble out of bed with the sun high in the sky and the city buzz in your ears. Your housemate is about to crack open an egg for breakfast. No, don’t! You pull it away and nurse it in your hands, taking it into your bedroom for safekeeping.