while i was resting atop the roof after my gutter cleaning, i saw her again. the warbler. the brown bird which will never win any grammys.
she glided
she sliced the air
little brown wings stretched tip to tip
flapping here and there.
she ducked
she eluded
the tangled leaves and branches
she evaded.
keen navigator
no procrastinator
she reached her spot
smooth operator.
she'll feed her birdling
this fine morning
the worm in her beak keeps struggling
yet, Plans Divine, Laws Divine, are unraveling.
yes, this is what i thought. and i am here atop the roof to be a witness to this all. the brown bird surrenders to the Divine. the birdling too. the cool wind, the hiding sun, the gray sky, they are part of this planned moment. the worm, although trying to fight its fate, this fine morning, it, too will surrender.
there are Plans Divine, Laws Divine.
this fine morning, i, likewise will surrender to this moment. i'm here to chronicle the death of worm, the nurturing of birdling's life, and this mother songbird's performing her duty.
performing our duties, we all were. this fine morning.
this is Life.
2 comments:
Fantastic my brother Sito. Nice to be back on the roof with you. I have been taking the greatest of pleasures of late enjoying commune with the birds in my area. We often leave seed and food out for them on the porch. We have Jays and sparrows, crows, and song birds of all kinds.
In Lak' ech, brother prosper in love...
oh, how i envy you brother! that you are being visited by lots of song birds. let them sing for you and shower them with your kindness and love .. as the great late poet john lennon said it -- "love is real, real is love .."
i always remember what my Master often told us: simple living, high thinking.
this is the key to inner joy.
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