A voice sings.
A bird flies whose wings have previously remained unscretched.
Its song grows stronger with each whistled lullaby.
A burden inside is lifted into the air.
Weightlessness encourages tears.
The heaviness flows from within, and the bird flies alongside its friends.
She weaves in and between them, flying beside and above and below, and always with them.
They care for each other
They love each other.
Flight is not for transportation unless the destination is another world; another realm; another peace of mind.
Pieces of mind, thrown like cards onto the table
Placed like a baby into a cradle.
Silence falls, for she is scared her next note might roll down her cheeks
Roll wetly down her cheeks and shivering down her spine.
Beauty invites a shiver down the spine.
It says "Come in. Be warm. Be touched."
Warm breath flows.
Open hearts invoke terror
If you think she sang beautifully, then tell her.