Birds

For who's sake? Yours or hers?

You have no flow, no flow.

Focus where?

You are lost,

But that is not the problem.

You are lost

Without a map.

Fear to take a step

Better to stand still.

What of the mind?

Place it somewhere,

Anywhere.

That is a bird,

You want to make it yours.

Sing to it, work for it, pine after it.

Right within your grasp it becomes,

You are immobile.

And say the bird was too hard to catch.

But ah now,

This time you see the right bird.

On the table.

But oh... its feathers look funny?

Whichever. You are too good for a reason.

You are immobile.

You are immobile.

Immobile.

Birds land on you.

You sing to them.

Birds like you.

You are immobile.

Immobile.