The Moonbird

There once was a moonbird
Who could not sing, 
She lived in the silence
Between dusk and dawn.
The wings by her side
Remained useless things,
What purpose had flight
Without joy of a song? 

There had been a time
When her heart tried to open,
Love springing forth
Throughout feather and bone.
But pain remained steadfast,
It chased and it caught her,
Until her voice withered
And she was alone.

There once was a moonbird,
Who could not sing, 
She lived in the silence
Between dusk and dawn.
A pale imitation
Of a beautiful thing, 
Gazing at stars
While her own light was gone.