Longing on a Branch

A home so fine, I exclaim to all, Resting on branch, above this ground, A pond of water, I see from perch, It longs to me, to land and search. Vastness of water, no comers in, I move toward it, landing gently, A tiny splash, tail feathers wet, If only another would not see a threat. Next day to land at tree and pond, Everyday to splash and bash. With all my hope, I can only wait, For another to come and change my fate. As one day passes and another one begins, The fate to change my passage waits, Still longing at this pond, I linger, To hear a chirp of my lifelong singer. I wait and wait at pond so great, To hear that call to me. One day that comes, a faint whisper heard, A call of love, but still is blurred. Like worms too deep, we cannot meet, I dig and peck and try, But you are far, your call is faint, To find you now, I need a saint. I only wish that we could meet, On ground that is more level, For you could fly to my perch, And end this session of my search. A branch that is straight Is all I wish, For us to sit upon it, To perch for days, enjoy our life, for just a tiny bit.