songbird,
did you recall those
sun-touched days, when
you heard sound shine like
silver and gold?

songbird,
did you see light
glinting off the sea
when the soprano sang like
polished steel?

songbird,
did you remember
what it felt like
to paint dawn with your harmonies
and call down stars with your song?

songbird,
did you remember
what it felt like to
fly on air glimmering
with melodies,
elegies that echo
in your blood?

songbird,
sing me an ode.
tell me all the stories
you used to share,
the verses that rang
out in hallowed halls,
the heaven you made
with the threads of music
you pulled from your heart.

songbird,
sing me a requiem,
of the gravity of silence
choking the air,
the shapes of words
you have lost,
the ghosts you see
when you remember the choir,
the home you left
and the person you once were.

songbird,
sing, and it will find you.
even if no one else is listening,
even if no one else is there.
the music was never lost,
because the music is made of you.