In front of my house, the house wren sings and scolds anyone who would scare her young, every summer.
on our front porch
in the apple tree
on the bird-house roof
perches this song-ful bird
She occupies the whole front of the townhouse!
Mary Oliver:
“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song.”
Everything I can think of that my parents
thought or did I don’t think and I don’t do.
I opened windows, they shut them. I pulled
open the curtains, they shut them. If you
get my drift. Of course there were some
similarities – they wanted to be happy
and the weren’t. I wanted to be Shelley and I
wasn’t. I don’t mean I didn’t have to avoid
imitation, the gloom was pretty heavy. But
then, for me, there was the forest, where
they didn’t exist. And the fields. Where I
learned about birds and other sweet tidbits
of existence. The song sparrow, for example.
In the song sparrow’s nest the nestlings,
those who would…
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The Vibrant Channeled Creator 