For this season, we’ll dance and twirl
Laugh each time the wind whirls
But sooner or later the branches will crack
With the acid of our lies and weights on
our backs
And I’ll fly off to the clouds
And you’ll fall to the ground
We’ll both return to where we belong
Slightly healed, slightly on the rebound
A cuckoo and a chital—can they every be?
One isn’t anchored; the other isn’t free…
The blue and the brown
The upward and the down
This duality is however intrinsically bound
By the singularity of their loneliness
And that is why they find their way
Back to each other every time
He’s lifted by her flapping wings
She’s carried by his sturdy feet
And even though they part each winter
Next spring they will surely meet
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