Birds on a wire

We are like two birds flying on different paths. Until one day, our paths cross on a telephone pole wire. I chirped at you with my song of seasons, and you chirped at me with your song of reason. I felt like we were birds of a feather, though you may not feel the same.

As a olive branch of good favor, I hopped over to the middle of the wire and continue to chirp my little song of hearts, love, and feelings all day long. You stay perched on your end of the wire, still singing a song of logic, tension, and future.

The two songs blast like a cacophony of chirps that no one but us know the meaning. Others come to see the spectacle that is this noise. Some with shoes and rotten fruit ,and others with flowers and joys.

Will this struggle with songs last forever? Or will you join me in the middle of the wire and let me put my wing around you?

Sacrificing what is for what could be is what this little bird will do, till winter comes and my journey ends with one of two endings.