The fog was coming down

It was cold. The fog was coming down. I couldn’t see you anymore. Then a bird began to sing. Unexpectedly. At 5.55 am? The most beautiful melody I ever heard. She sang so beautifully to me That reality disappeared Into a wet February night. I was surprised Aren’t birds to sleep at night? Church bells rang. The valley filled with your voice, Mountains echoing your beautiful sound. You are calling me, old soul. From the other side. A perfect moment. Filled with pure love. I’m alone, but never lonely again. Everybody is sleeping, But the two of us The church bell. And the nightingale. (dedicated to Ashleigh Morghan)