I heard birds sing this morning

Nestled in the home of their branches

Among the dying tree outside my window

As the snow flurried down

Peeping through the slit in the curtains

I yell to the baby birds

To fly away as this is not their time

To hold space in their decaying nest

My breath a small cold cloud escaping my lips

Why do we stay longer than we should

Why do I hope it shall pass or all to be well

When we see the imminent destruction around us

Knowing that branches can only hold for so long

Beginning to break underneath the weight

Still clinging to the hope we can still fly away 

At any point before it’s too late

Why must I cling to this

A continued sense of hope

That something else, or even someone else

Will save me when I am to save myself

I wish to rise out of my grave of twigs

My little nest I keep buried in

Lifting my tired head to be with the snow

And simply fly away

Before the tree branch snaps

Before it comes crashing down

Before I lose everything

Before I lose myself