Every beginning is poetry

I am the bird of inoccence that floats in the air, so bright And yet I am dark as dusk and gloomy as the night But the night might be clear and great like the ones we see in dreams It is in those nights we go with fate through its torturous streams Could I be a silent bird and still speak the words of dawn Indeed I could if I stand the night and at sunrise am not gone Much meaning would that have fulfilled with a secret symbol That we must unveil to find a pass so nimble, like the dawn itself For I find meaning certain and clear - to me a bird so mere That the night is my only house and the dawn, her daughter, my lovely spouse

at a diner