You and I
The sun decided to come out today.
The birds sing and fly and built nests
so that the new generations of flying creatures come.
In small puddles of rain, bathes the mocking bird
that signs and brings in its magic chirp a song of hope.
And you and I here in our park.
Ants come and go apparently lost
without a precise direction
and from time to time capriciously again and again
find their route in our skins.
Excuseless and gently glides the butterfly
across the brief space that separates us
as if she owned the moment.
One day the sun will die away
and the birds will stop singing and flying,
there will be no more nests
or little puddles of rain in which to bathe,
there will be no routes for the ants,
there will be no space for the butterfly,
and you and I here in our park.