Omniscience

I know why the caged bird screeches.
Its vocal chords expanding and contracting
Catapulting notes through the holes in its wings
Because its chest cavity wasn’t big enough to hold its tears.
And now these cavities burrow silently through its hope
Because hope never came like the gust of wind that keeps a bird afloat
So now it drowns in its notes without a notice of the coming spring.

I know why the north wind howls.
Its swishes are calls to wild spirits that dwell in sand dunes-
Graves for pulverized dreams-
they were too weak to make it to the after life
so they settled in the comfort of sun, and air
it’s amazing,
how the wind wrinkles the folds of time, fluffing formerly preconceived notions back to life,
and now it stitches the holes in the graves seam by seam.