(Wish I could remember the name of the artist for this print. It's not mine.)Patterns in the sky
fluttering, freely, flashing by
Choreographed only by the nature inside.
Sitting in a car I wait at the light
Looking up at this beautiful sight.
Why must I move like this,
they move like that?
Their life is harsh,
synchronized with a pulse
deeper than strife.
A sunny afternoon
the birds synchronize.
