I sit on this comfortable branch
I have worn grooves into the bark
with talons grasp I have weathered many storms.

There was then a wind blowing in January
that made the limb sway and I worriedly cooed,
I was so sure this storm would pass on, as all the others had,

I loved the home, I perched on;
felt as safe as in a nest,
the winds of change blew;

and I found I must fly again
into the cold winds of change,
I soar again.