A rare descent

entry picture

Sitting on the apple tree
Purloining space and time
A wee robin redbreast
Doing what a robin does
Pecking as it ruffles its feathers
Scattering rain drops all around
The robin expects nothing, except luck

The luck of the draw
The cock Robin
Has a hen Robin and sings to her with glee.

Even in the soaking rain
Such sights and sounds astound me.

Nothing is as iridescent as this robin
He doesnt need snow and he doesnt need glitter
He is the baby-sitter. He just needs some worms with a lonely  death wish
And some unfrozen water, in a dish

No burning bush
No parting of the sky
Just a slight cock Robin passing me by
As he prepares for spring
Singing into the deadening, leadening sky

And never-ever asking why.



◄ Solstice Song

Tabula Rasa ►


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Wed 11th Dec 2019 03:04

This poems reminds me of a quote from one of my favorite books, “Thornbirds” by Colleen McCullough... “There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain… Or so says the legend.”

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