The Cuckoo called.
His cry plaintive,
His voice etched with pain.
          I searched for Him.
          I parted The Veil, The Wall
          But like the Broken Window, He is not seen.
Our paths merge.
A pattern of Knots and Crosses.
And to His reflection, I call
          Fly with me, You of The Sky.
          Fly with Me, for a Better Tomorrow.
          And together then, We can rejoice,
           *In the Insanity of our Lives.