This happened, sort of.
Did I tell you about the ghostly birds?
They appeared as we walked through the darkened city
Silent and white against the night sky
We listened out for their familiar cry
But none came;
We looked at each other, my friend and I
"Do you see them, or is it my eyes?"
They slipped in the wind as if made of paper
Lit from below, gliding and searching
Soon the pale ghosts taper off to leave us
in darkness again.
My lover then told me they were searching for me
He'd sent them with tales to tell from afar
When I saw them again,
if I stood still and listened,
A message would form in my heart