I often see you when I least expect to.

A russet-brown flash of feathers that frame an orange-red chest.

You flutter silently, knowingly, moving effortlessly from branch to branch.

I often wonder if you can see me?

I am the girl stood silently by the window, palms flat against the pane, eyes bright with excitement and wonder, watching as you dance between the trees.

Your graceful presence is one of such reassuring comfort, even a second or two is enough to quell the tender longing.

A tiny messenger, sent to let me know that you are now safe and happy and free from the darkened din that dogged your days.