My Tree

I look out my window.
I see many things.
The one thing that stands out?
This tree...

This tree has been there
For as long as I could remember.
And most likely,
Even before that.

This tree has been home
to many a bird.
Most look the same,
And they all come and go.

And every so often,
A bird will stay
For what seems like an era.
Attachment.

I would look at the bird,
Think nothing of it.
At first,
But then it gets real,

As I become
Accustomed to its presence.
And just when things bloom,
It leaves.

Couldn't comprehend,
At one point,
Why the birds would come,
But never stay.

The tree looks nice,
And I love when they're there,
But apparently,
It's never enough.

So when the last one left,
I wanted to make sure,
That next one that came
Stayed.

And I worked on the tree.
I let other birds go.
As much I wanted them,
They had to flee.

Then this one bird came.
It looks like it's wants in.
But there is no in
For it to reside.

It leaves, but seemingly,
It comes back.
Time and time again,
Wondering...

When will it be ready?
When can I stay?
This investment.
It better be worth it.

Always wanted a bird
To stick with this tree,
To nest here
And remain steady.

Should I let the bird
Rock in this half finished project?
Or do I risk the wait
Of being ready?