with ebony feathers being ruffled with the wind,
he perched on his little ledge, a morning routine.
silently, observing moments of the day
sitting unnoticed to the beings crossing below.
with their busy tones and headphones,
their feet making quick steps, never stopping to think,

he wondered.

do they enjoy missing moments like these?
as he pitied the humans who never even noticed
the little shadows leading, dancing at their feet
and the disappearance of the crow,
leaving only three tracks on the wall.

is fleeting, tender butterflies
and bashful smiles hidden
beneath wisps of hair.

The stress on my chest
Let's me know I did invest
Something into my heart
Breathing life into this art

Getting use to these sensations
Reverberations of my inner
Bright begins to fill the hole
As I break the mold

From stories that are old
Ingrained and overtold
But the darkness of that night
Adjusted me to the light

For when I hold both
Each in the palm of a hand
All is revealed
The grandest plan...

Heavy pour of rain just stop
With water at every step
The trees stand bathed
Waiting some to dry it, soothed

I look out of my window to view
The beauty of nature as a preview
He pulls me by my hand
Under a small tree makes me stand

I stand with my hand around me
To beat the chillness piercing me
Wonder stuck I look at him
Responds with a naughty mime

With all force he waved the branches of trees .
Getting me bathed in the waters falling off the trees. ..
I gave him an aghast look
But he and trees bore a cheerful look  

What more to ask for ...???
Than enjoy smile the tree and my dear wore...

but with a question ..
Does he love me or the tree more??

Clouds blow the sun away.
More coffee.

Is it still real if my best memories are not kept by others in them?
What if those dreams and memories are the regrets and nightmares of those with whom I shared the moment?
Am I who I thought I was and am I able to believe in who I am if my memories are not shared?