Nestled alongside my roost of books and blankets

I wonder where you have gone to

To the south perhaps? But it's already mid March and snow still continues to fall  

Was there a reason to leave behind your flightless cardinal?

I’m still waiting for your arrival back home

Or have you found another?

 

Dear blue bird

I miss the molted feathers you use to leave in my room and hair

You remind me of the beauty that surrounds me every day of the week

However it seems the colours have dulled down over time

Yet your feathers still stay vivid in hue 

I wonder where you have gone to

My dear blue bird

 

Building and waiting is all I do now

The task of keeping up the tidiness of my birdhouse is now a struggle

Going outside to keep up the warmth you emitted is not the same

I can still feel your beautiful voice that wept gorgeous melodies

I can still hear your quills on my fingers and face

The way you slept next to me still leaves me restless

When will you be back now?

 

Time has made things so long

I can’t remember the sound of my own song without yours

They intertwined so perfectly, even if I was off tune

Free of the cages that use to hold me, I still feel trapped in my own space

Red feathers can only keep their colour with the passions you still have

My passion was with you my dear blue bird

 

Many seasons have passed without you

I wonder if I faded from you or you from I

Many seasons have taught me how to live my life 

To where I put all thoughts of you away in storage

But the urge to know where your existence last left me still haunts my woods

I am always able to clear my mind of blue in the roof space

 

Boxes everywhere, many twigs, blankets, books, and toys

Do you remember the ones we use to play with?

Each cardboard secret opened lessens the pain

From nowhere I hear a song, the one you use to sing to me

where you have gone to?

When have I last heard from it?

 

Until I see you in the far corner near the window

Nestled in the notes I sent covered in red stripes of blue

You never left to the south did you?

Maybe it was me who’s age and mind went south for the past winters

Your smile has never dulled nor the gleam in your eyes

When did you turn into the haunter in my attic

My dear blue bird