so much is shared through migrations
like birds dropping seeds in the garden
some will flourish, some wont
flowers, fruits and weeds

looking back on history
and the incessant weave of the world
i see patterns intertwined, growing
interchange of arts and design

leaves that bud from one tree
the branching of language and speech
a map of where we’ve all been
it says nothing of where we are going
in this we know less than the birds