A pair of folded hands

There is a cardinal nested in the crook of the branch outside my window.

I sleep while it builds.
I am awake while it settles atop thin shells.

Soon the skin like bone will crack and unfold--
red feathers will blink.

After this is when I look forward to saying hello to the possibility of unfolded hands--
for her to look at me with curiosity behind glass curves
and without the fear that has so defined her nerves--
for those newly flown have freed hands to see what can now be grown.