the skyscrapers of oak, swaying,
the soft, peaceful melody of the wind,
branches, extending, wrapping around themselves,
in an act of dance, a twirl around the whirling, impassable sky.

fallen leaves, raining down,
painting the ground an open-flesh red.

the wind chime, the banging pipes,
the unquestionable need to be a part of nature.

the ominous ocean,
the drowning sailboat,
the screaming seabirds.

the nature drags you to where it wants you to go,
the clouds cast a scolding look,

“Listen,”
It hums,
“Listen to me.”

you open your arms,
pressing your fingers tightly together,
bruising each bone there.

you lean back and let the breath of earth,
steal you away.

this is how God discovered bird.