I found the porcelain songbirds
Fractured and faded with age
Dusted with web and candlelight
With grins that were weary and sage.
The story they told was fleeting
Clear as truth, and cold
Of the times of gems and music
And the melodious songs of old.
That day they gave me knowledge
It was all I asked of them
I put it in my eyes and they
Took it back again.
"Your soul is old enough," they said,
"You don't need any more."
And as I sat on velvet stone
To the songbirds I implored.
"Come with me to the light," I said,
"I'll carry you up the stairs.
Then you can sing the songs of old
To an audience everywhere."
"No," they replied with eyes half closed,
"Our days are past their prime.
For now, you be the songbird
And leave the past behind."
They taught me the songs of old
To keep close to my heart
And when I said I did not want to go
They said "Before you depart,
You know our time is over
There is no point for us.
Leave us here to wither
And return to sweet stardust."
And so they did, their bodies stilled
And as they did I sang
I carried them up the wooden stairs
To the light again.