I found your hand
sleeping
like five birds
in a tree
(heads tucked under wings).

I did not wish to startle them
so I stood near, singing very softly
an old love song.

Slowly they woke into
their own sunrise.
Together, singing, they
flew down
on iridescent wings,
bringing me
your touch of heaven
(and, in that old love song,
the sweet harmonies
of love's dawn).