The early morning sun reaches down
And touches the few leaves that stay
It shines as if it doesn’t know us at all
Then a small bird sings clearly
Far away in the morning hush
And I know you hear it too
Whether or not anyone else hears
Doesn’t matter. We hear.
We are here. It sounds our hopes
Our dreams. Such as they can be.
Invisible to others, real to us
We wait the birdsong to begin again