while reading Why Birds Sing?

... I could say it's the bird of my loneliness
asking, as usual, for love, for more anyway than I have,
I could as easily call it
grief, ambition, knot of self that won't untangle, fear of my own
heart. All
I can do is listen to the way it keeps on, as if it's enough
just to launch a voice
against stillness, even a voice that says so little,
that no one is likely to answer
without anything but sorrow, and their own confusion.

... Kim Adonizio, extract from The Singing