Holding broken pieces of me, I sat
on my balcony a summer arvo
pondering about love and life
wondering where had I gone wrong
and then a cuckoo came calling.
She made herself home, confident
sure of herself, unlike me.
And then she sang a song,
a melody that pierced my heart
She took me back in time
when my hopes were young
when my dreams were blinding
when loving myself came easy.
Back to the home she flew me
the one that still stands, just empty
where love meant mom’s food
where tears were wiped quickly
where kisses healed scrapped knees.
to the fields, where her kin sang to me
on cool evenings when I wove dreams.
She looked at me, holding my stare,
striking a final tune, as if urging me
to move ahead and still look back
to still dream, to still believe
and to find in myself, the little me,
who believed a kiss healed.