And

Migratory birds landing on the Yellow Sea tidal mudflats
A conquering stopover in this hemispheric flyway
Is it just a rest stop on their freeway?
Is eye catching always mind blowing?
Snowflakes no longer crowding the sky
Can't fit in shallow box of my life


Just like the landfilled tidal flats
so was my native windbreak, my shelter hidden
Outside of that box I built and buried myself under

Barely climbed it and out after
the roof caved in
And eyes wide open to all-encompassing miracles buttressing my life
Perpetually flapping invisible wings

Still don't know
why their young fit to fly back South must
hatch in Russia every year
where the spring is the shortest

And how to turn my numerously pulsing heart
into wings flapping nonstop
to cross over my life sea