You are the chipmunk,
Living your life in the
Same oak tree, content
With your warm, comfy den.
You gather food from the same places,
Enjoy the same seasons
With the same friends,
And you never fear predators.
You watch the songbird in rapture,
The way her wings catch the air and she soars,
Trilling beautiful melodies
As she swoops through the sky
And you love her,
And long for her,
But you can’t join her

I am the song bird
Flitting from branch to bowed branch,
Leaving almost as soon as I perch.
I sing of the beauty
And wealth of the world
That I will behold once
I find it in my travels.
I look down at the ground, dusted with leaves,
And watch the chipmunk
As he chitters with the other animals,
Fetches nuts for his sibling,
And romps through the leaves
And I love him,
And I long for him,
But I can’t join him

“A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?
There is no place in the world for such love”
Cinderella said
And the artist made her wings,
But there was no one there
To make my chipmunk wings,
So we move on,
In travels or in the same little burrow,
Forever incomplete