a sweet little song
I was half-asleep when the woman brushed her hand across my cheek to gently wake me. "Rand, look... a bird's standing on your windowsill, singing to us."
The bird's song was melodious and peaceful. I hadn't yet opened my eyes, but through listening to the bird, it was like I could feel the sunlight pouring into the room. I could tell that the woman felt the same, in the way that her body was gently pressed against mine, sharing the moment with me in tranquility.
"You can understand it, can't you Rand? What is he singing abou..."
"Ohhh," she said, indicating that the song was now even sweeter to her ears, "what is she singing about?"
"She's telling us that her mate has died, and her young are starving. She wants us to give her some food, so they will survive the night."
The woman pressed her lips against my cheek before laying her head on my chest. "That's beautiful," she said as she squeezed me in her arms. We then let our little visitor sing us back to sleep.