A bit of string,
A tangle of yarn,
A trinket, harvested from the gutter;
She's searching for something special in the unwanted.
A bright eye glitters.
A talon snatches.
She flies on...

Bearing her treasures, she floats above her shattered nest
That clings, forlornly to a crooked and lifeless branch.
Her wings grow tired, yet she must complete this task;
-To make whole, what is but a semblance of haven
  -yet, it is HER nest

Lighting upon the branch, she weaves and tucks
and struggles to secure it.
She adorns it with the fruits of endless questing
And believes it into wholeness once again.
With joy, she skitters to the very heart,
Preens her feathers -opens wide her wings
And bursts forth with a heart stopping aria.
-her mating call.