Tribute to a song

 A Norwegian jigsaw
of many key timbres,
threw its corner pieces
high up into the sky
of cloudless possibilities.

Some were caught
by strong Nordic birds,
they became unlocked notes,
resurgent wings of Viking birdsong;
the swallow pieces taken
to form musical heart.

The remains of the puzzle
fell back to earth, scattered
and became an enigma
of a distant feeling.

Many accepted this
partial incompleteness,
except for a lone bird
seen from a song’s window,
it sang oft that it’ll ever be
love’s fuller voice,
hunting high and low.

I don’t do the song justice, but I thought I’d post the
poem anyway (a-ha – Hunting high and low)

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