Posts Tagged ‘bird’




surrounded by the most

lovely silence

the crow

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bird in the cage

so intently singing

its sad, caged song

never noticing

the door long ago opened

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Across the yard, below

the cliffs, and just beneath the evening’s

drift toward darkening, above

the river, through the trees,

there is, if you are lucky,

a slender moment charmed

by chance when, if you look up,

the great blue heron

will angle past on slanting wing

and make you question



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One Sermon




beneath the meadowlark,

the fencepost turns pulpit—

praise, praise, praise

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April 23



How do they do it,

the broad-tailed hummingbirds,

arriving at my window

the same day every year,

welcome as spring,

reliable as moon.


And what part of me

thrills in their predictability?

And what part says,

a tad too triumphantly,

See, here’s proof,

things come back.


I hear the small birds

before I see them,

their wingtips trilling,

I’ve read how the feathers

that make the sound wear down

from use. By midwinter,


you can barely hear

their bright hum at all until,

preparing to breed,

they grow new feathers again.

How do they do it,

grow feathers at just the right time?


I want to linger in the small

miracle of it, these ears still learning

how to hear and this heart still

astonished at the timing

of the world, how life just knows

when to return, when to grow.

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One Fluttering



sound of wings—

on my shoulder, that bird

I let go years ago





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Gretel Explains Herself

all those crumbs I left
on the path, it’s not
that I want to go back

it’s just that I happen to like
birdsong wherever I go

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It’s an Inside Job

Before we can be what we are meant to be, we must accept what we are not.
–Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening , June 29

Bird in a cage
every day she drops the seeds
till beneath her
then all around her
a tangle of wild things.

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who dreams
of flying,
do not
be sad
because you
were not given wings.
Such strong legs you have, pushing against the air with every step, and such fine skin that stands at attention in prickly praise
as the wind
lifts you the
that it can.

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square of blue sky
I fold it into a bird
in the pocket
above my heart
it flutters

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