Site icon A Hundred Falling Veils

Dear Finn,

 

 

 

Full of seed, the bird feeder hangs

from the cottonwood tree

we planted years ago.

Even without the birds,

it is beautiful—

dangling midair

with its copper perches

and glass column.

 

This morning in the news,

we are going to war with each other—

either with words or with missiles.

It seems clear

that we are our own problem.

 

No wonder we try to bring beauty in close—

the garden with its open faced pansies,

the hummingbird feeder with its hold

of sugar water.

 

The battles are not

what will save us,

it’s beauty—not just

outside us, but in us.

 

All day, let us look

for ways be like this brown bird

at the feeder, see

how it gathers light

in its open wings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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