Two birds spiraling in the air
following invisible currents
not sure if they're fighting or dancing
a singular bird detaches itself to join the black feathered tree
a signal, a 6th sense and the sighing ascent
whorling indrawn infinities in a parking lot
mimic the wink of scales and whisper of movement unheard
with torpedoed underwater shrapnel of individual forms
vast landscapes made minuscule by little giants
creating living patterns, unknown beasts, maybe sentient?

Quiet night, hushed and enveloping
it calls to a wandering spirit
asks it, color in the darkness with your thoughts
let it expand filling the four corners
till the world is your own creation
echoing with your image
you vain creature
but I suppose it lends to your clarity
quieting your agitating negativity
the night echos back your truest free self
more than a word, than a relationship,
the fragments of a whole known only to you
perhaps shallow to others but deep enough to
paint the night, the dome of your thoughts
finally present around you