The birds have no idea
What’s been going on
Here they are on the Monday Morning of the world
Singing
I sit in outside in crisp April air
Caught between seasons
Thaw-freeze breath and
Coffee steam rising like incense
The birds have no idea
When they snap the silence
I’ve been holding
Taught and thin and iridescent as a blown bubble
Between myself and God
First the singsong tweet of songbirds
Harmonizing from the east with the morning sun
A crow’s clumsy caw next
And then the barking of a dog a block away
Just to bring us back to earth
A buzzing from the west like electric hum
Somewhere near the power lines are more birds
Swirling as the song of bees
Far off now – Northeast
The little pierce of a gull
Perhaps down at the riverfront park
Enter from the Southwest
A solitary honking goose
So loud I rise from my porch to see
The more I listen the more I hear
Rising like old church bells
Birdsong all around me
Oblivious joy