So, this silence falls down around us
As we let the bird fly free from open palms.
Watching it become a speck and then nothing
Before turning back to break free of that silence
Of a solemn and significant moment.
We wait for breathing to return to tense bodies
And life to flow back through us, before we step away
From this hillside and return to our lives.
We live down in the valley below
Where ordinary days pass in ordinary ways
And the only birds we ever see are those that fly
Too far above us for us ever to take one
Into our hands again, just to hold its freedom close.