Children, suppose you
were born as birds.
Inside your hearts as
capable as magnets
would hover memories
of all the birds who
came before you.
Birds who were guided
by certain stars, rivers, coastlines,
the winds of mountain passes
and fields that must be flown
over to return home,
before they ever left.
That is, if you were birds
and I was your mother
and you fledged
and I abandoned you to flight,
you would find your way back
despite never being taught,
though not necessarily to me.