I can't read maps right anyway

feathers falling from the sky
we gaze up in wonder
at the flock overhead
soaring, sweeping off

they wheel and turn above us now;
the shrill cries
sounding almost human
to our untrained ears
scores of birds, flying away
from the cold and dark and wet
to somewhere better
how do they know where to go?

if only we had that inner pull
showing us the right path, direction
instead you take my hand in yours
(us creatures doomed to tumble
and grasp our way through life,
so much is darkness) and you pull me to you

as we hold each other
we are laughing raucous cries
with those birds
spinning in the cascade of dirty down
we don't know where we're headed
or if it's the right way
but we don't mind the rain.