Once we loved. 
Then, we parted. 
My wings became arms again. 
I speak now and seldom sing. 
But some things can never be as before. I pay attention now to different things 
 I hear the tiniest insect move beneath the ground.
Small hopes keep me alive 

like the way leaves 
still sometimes 
from the stumps of trees.

Mystery of mysteries: what is given returns.

Because I could not 
speak they thought 
I could not hear. 
Because my mind 
was new they thought 
I could not notice. 
But I saw 
everything even the 
invisible and I heard 
everything including 
the silences. 
I never spoke of it 
but much later when 
I was alone 
again all my tears 
to red.