Morning chatter about the state of my life interrupted by a collision
Body on glass, a bounce that chilled me to the bones as my eyes opened a little wider in disbelief
A sojourn halted

Your mouth gaped as it took in feeble breaths,
stained red with the evidence of a cranium beyond repair
And I thought to myself how cruel my house must be.
Big, glass doors that allow light to enter my life but also offer malicious reflections
of safety.

And the hardest part is the quivering as I picked you up,
the brief glimpses of hope that perhaps this is just a hiccup in your victorious journey over land and sea.
We’re all told that these happen.
You’re bound to fail, it’s part of life.
Necessary for continuing on.
I suppose sometimes these tragedies are too great to overcome.

Everything about you is perfect, glorious, radiant.
Feathers tinged with olive and **** you sure look good with your fiery cap
and your neck delicately spotted with black.

Your eyes were shut at first but upon my gaze opened to full capacity,
making me squeamish and uncomfortable because I could not change a fate already in the works.
I blink and suddenly your manner has changed.
No more frantic heartbeat dances across your breast and your mouth has stopped moving,
no more words to utter.

You are no longer destined
to feel the warm tropical air that you must be craving
on these cool August mornings that have left me confused yet excited for things to come.

But perhaps your life was extraordinary,
And perhaps you have changed the course of mine.
And maybe we shall meet again, as your soul dances in the wind.

Have you ever seen the rustle of leaves

and imagined it to be

a bird

flitting about, without taking time out?



Should a leaf be disappointing?



I highly doubt

that the bird minds this mimicry

this form of flattery



As it watches me watching

this tree

and this elegant, beautiful creek

and sings his melody.

I’m listening.

I promise I am.

To the buzzing bees

that surround me

and ask why I have no nectar.



I did not say I was contributing.



Why not try those new yellow flowers

over there?

A sure success



Oh, and by the way –

welcome back.



I’m listening to the warbler

You look a little ragged, sir –

long day yesterday? I can relate.

And my advice is:

take a break.



That stick that fell next to me?

Yes, I heard it.

But I also felt the air move

And a fear of collision

So close.



The woodpecker drumming is loud, pronounced –

As I look for the tree that bears the wound.



Your coat of red, dear Cardinal

Is the focus of my world,

and the water a cascade of white as well as sound.



So, clearly, I am listening

But I am distracted.

My mind in the clouds

shouts to the body

below, commands it



to start walking

far into a world

of water, trees, birds.



True freedom lies in appreciation

of what you can access

but cannot quite understand.



Pay attention.

The understanding may come

sooner than you think.