Opening My Gifts

So long and thanks for all the fish.~The dolphins’ final message as told by Douglas Adams.

After fighting for breath all night, I wake
to squabbling orioles’ warning chase.
House sparrow–that dreadful invader–claims
chickadees’ nest. Junco hits window frame

and drops to lie in ferns below. She’s stunned,
not dead. This little wren is on the run.
The air is peep and flit, the feeders brim.
Alarms and rattles replace morning’s hymn.

A blue jay’s swift across my line of sight.
I’m huddled in a coat and fleece. First light
sleepless again for my big heart tested
each waking minute just can’t get rested.

We settle in, ground, convert fights to joy,
aeronautical contests to enjoy.
Interpretations optional. I choose
with my great moxie to release, to loose

the ties that bind me. Distant past’s sorrow
grinds inevitably toward tomorrow
that never comes, misperceived charade. New
sight, deep intuition, compassion’s light–

two iridescent blackbirds land to fish–
you’ve asked for my whimsical birthday wish:
a place to write, clean air, a lake that gleams,
delightful avian instruction teams.

Featured image: A shy green heron came to fish this morning just as I started to press publish.

Inspired by: Whimsical, Contest, Optional and Moxie. And the gift of life my mother gave me so very many years ago on this day.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Opening My Gifts”

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