Songs of love

Together they would sing the same song.
A love song from long ago.
Day in and day out they sang.
Until the dove was gone.
The crow stopped singing.
He stopped playing his lyre.
He stopped talking.
He missed the beautiful dove.
He sat.
He waited.
He weeped.
Hoping someday,
Somehow,
He might learn to love again.
The darling dove was everything to him.
She was his world.

The crow, now old and decrepit,
He sits under a tree,
He stums his lyre,
And he sings,
He sings songs of love from long ago.
He sings them to the village children.
To his children.
And their children.
In the wind he hears the dove.
She sings a melody,
She sits beside the old crow.
“You’ve learned to love again?”
The Dove whispers.
“I have, I have indeed.”
The crow sings.
The dove,
Now a mere shadow,
Plays a tune into the lyre,
Its a song of love,
A song that was with him all along.