The bird danced in the glowing sand,
Her jewels trapped the light,
She took it captive and let it free, at that moment,
When I walked into the room.
She was the sharp spring morning,
That stuns you after years of bitter frost,
Dancing, spinning, falling to the wet ground
In a disheveled jumble of blooming feathers.
She was the calm before the storm,
And the silence thereafter, that stunned even men
Into tears that fell from eyes like saltine pearls.
Her heart is a box filled with secrets
Of that glowing sand and glimmer-lights,
Which none will see, none, apart from me.