Thursday, April 9, 2009
The mockingbird wakes me
much more pleasantly than the buzz of an alarm.
I open the window to catch a blur of gray and white retreating.
I am in awe of his unusual calls.
I'm tickled to hear a song I recognize, pheobe, wren, and not be fooled by his mimicry.
I wonder if I gave the same call to him each morning if he'd begin to mimic me.
I wonder if I could make him give the Kelsey call.
The tree swallows have overtaken the skies and the first couple feet above the water.
They look like paper airplanes
Perched on a bluebird box they are people in tuxedos
Delicate people in precision space ships.
The colors of the birds in the leafless forest strike me with pleasure.
My eyes and my body feel the gift of these creatures
the reddest cardinals
all soar from tree to tree in the same greyscale frame of view.
The barred owls call to show their agreement with my peace.
The tiniest tulip tree leaf lies on the gravel.
Someone must have been nibbling high above and clumsily dropped this trace to remind me to look up
Stories above me one tree bursts with new life.
From my view it looks like green sugar sprinkles on a blue and gray cake.
All around life is singing and pushing forward.
Another chorus of wind, birds, and frogs.
Another testament to perseverance
My cares slip away.
My stresses disintegrate.
Watching a bluebird eying a moth
a swallow flying like a kite
the hard flaps of a turkey vulture
a dove belting it's soothing song
a frog climbing out from the muck
curiosity, wonder, intricacy.