The birds woke this morning

at their regular time

Like clockwork, actually

although they can’t tell time,

now can they?

Sweet tweets from treetops

and secret hideaways

on this crisp fall morning

Their bodies getting plump

for the winter before them

I wonder, 

who wakes them up?

And who taught them to sing like that?

No matter,

my heart fills with their delicate, 

simple yet complex melodies

All I can do is breathe quietly and listen

What a marvelous harmonious chorus

Thank you!

The least I can do is put seeds and berries out for them to feast. 

How ever do these little creatures survive in the bitter climate before them?

And yet they do, 

with delicate Grace

And so must I 

So must you

With delicate Grace

11/03/2018