A thin layer of ice
Covered the ground
A few inches of snow
Covered the ice –
Below-freezing temperatures
Caused a full-stop –
Sitting quietly inside
Wrapped in a soft blanket
Purring cat on my lap
I did nothing productive –
Only sat – watching
As the birds hopped
From trees to feeders
To snow-covered ground
Then back into the trees-
Except for this one crimson cardinal-
He perched on the feeder
A little bit longer-
I’d like to think
It was just for me
Tag: birds
Snow Travelers
A cold morning mystery
Footprints in the snow –
Perfect indentations of tiny talons
Two by two by two
Hopping a playful path
With no apparent beginning or ending-
Perhaps they flew in from
The nearby row of Loblollies-
A frequent layover for traveling
Families of cardinals, doves, and finches-
A peaceful place to refuel and rest
If only for a season-
A cold morning mystery
Footprints in the snow
Though not a mystery
Requiring a Holmes-like sleuth
One that created curiosity and smiles
Only Then
After all the leaves have fallen
And bare branches
Are covered in snow
Only then can we see
The precious homes left behind-
Homes constructed using
Carefully gathered materials
Perfectly woven in preparation
For a season of life
Lived in the trees –
A temporary season
Filled with holding
And protecting precious cargo-
Fragile eggs and then tiny birds
Chirping and eating
Sleeping and growing
Until all are ready to fly off
Into their next adventure
Leaving their home behind-
Providing an opportunity
Within their leaving
For us to wonder, reflect,
And possibly even relate
Silence
It challenges me-
In my car?
Turn on some music
Home alone?
Flip on the TV
Why not simply sit
With my thoughts?
They tend to shift
Quite rapidly
And are often
Accompanied by
Vivid images-
My quiet time
Quickly becomes
A cacophony
No one else can hear
A barrage of photos
No one else can see-
Perhaps I should
Take a walk-
Listen closely to the
Birds and the Breeze-
Let their songs clear
The cobwebs away
Making room for peace
Morning Song
You make it look so simple
Perched on a wire
With your closest friends
Perched nearby –
They may sit on a
Different wire-there may
Even be a wire
Missing from your staff
But your melodies still
Mingle to create
A sweet morning song-
And while I can’t
Physically hear your songs
Above the music currently
Playing in my head
I can feel it in my soul
A Slight Nudge
I see her
Resting quietly
In the middle
Of her nest
Contemplating
As pieces
Of her heart
Sit on the edge
Flirting with that space
Between the known
And the unknown
Ready to fly
But waiting
For one more note
Of encouragement-
Even the slightest nudge
Thought part of the job
Feels like a shove-
At least, to her, it does…
Take a breath, Mama Bird-
They will be ok
And so will you
Feathery Flock
Gray clouds soared
Across the sky
Like a flock of birds
Their feathery wings
Perfectly spaced
Providing each
An opportunity
For brief rest
While taking in
Blue ocean waves
Rising and falling below-
If not for the airy
Space in between
Those same clouds
May have appeared
The menacing type-
But, oh my!
How working
In Harmony
With the wind
Gave reason for
Imaginations to soar
Right alongside
Like a flock of birds
Their feathery wings
Perfectly spaced
Lessons in Unity
Colors fly past
My periphery
Golden browns
And burnt oranges
Sewn together
With threads of
Yellow and green
A heavy quilt
Covering the cold
Winter ground-
Tiny feathered creatures
Rest within the soft
Patchwork
Until ready
To announce
Their presence
Rising and falling
A mesmerizing
Magic carpet
Murmuration
All moving
Together as one
Simply Sunday
Grief
A black cloud
Moved across
The gray
Morning sky
Circling, swirling
Changing shape
Separating
Coming back
Together
Its fluctuations
Matching
My grief-
Moving closer
I could see
It was not
A cloud
But a flock
Of birds-
They landed
On the branches
Of barren trees
Perched up high
Unwavering
Their feathers
A brief replacement
For recently
Fallen leaves
Their stillness
Giving my heart
A moment to rest
Catch my breath
Though tears
Continued to flow
My sweet dad passed away early this morning. My heart is broken. I am forever grateful that he was my dad. He had a gentle strength about him. There is so much I want to remember and reflect over. But for now, this is all I can share.
Winter Visit
Snowflakes
Circling
Round and round
Falling toward
Frozen grass
Too cold out
For human hands
Tiny birds
Swooping
Up and down
Trees to feeder
Feeder to ground
Feathers puffed
White bellies shining
In contrast with
Gray skies
Gray bark
All but one…
Its red feathers
Radiant against
The wintry scene
Its red crest
Held high thru
The winter storm
The temperature in my little corner of Oklahoma today is a whopping 5 degrees. The windchill is -16. Winds are howling, and snow is blowing. But the birds still flit in the backyard. Our feeders are full, thanks to my sweetie. 💙❄️🌬
Piano Girl 