Gift of Spring — A Poem

An artistically altered photo of a teeny tiny wildflower, called Henbit.
“Henbit” — C.Birde, 4/21

Spring —

season

of promise and

uncertainty;

that green-frilled,

pink-budding gift,

waiting

to be

o

p

e

n

e

d.

— C.Birde, 4/21

Snow Angel — A Poem

A photograph of a blue jay's -- wings and feet and tail -- impression in snow.
“Blue Jay’s Snow Angel” — C.Birde, 2/21

Squinting eyes

against a truth

so bright

it blinds,

like snow piled

deep and white

and wide

Depth increases

inch by inch

Another layer

falls

With tilt of head

& shift of stance

behold

the shadows

cast –

indelible,

inarguable

Fall in,

fall in

Arms and legs,

widespread,

impress angelic

range.

Fall in-

to insight and

arise renewed

again.

— C.Birde, 2/21

Light & Shadow — Am Image

The elongated blue shadow of an ornamental tree cast on a thin layer of untouched snow.
“Light & Shadow” — C.Birde, 1/21

“Light returns!”

Her voice glittered

on the wind’s bladed edge.

“Feed your heartfire

on this everlasting

hope.”

— C.Birde, 1/21

Reservoir of Dark — An Image

A great body of water, bordered on either side by tree-lined hills, shrouded in misty darkness.
“Reservoir of Dark” — C.Birde, 1/21

“Sit with me

on Winter’s knee…”

Her fern-tipped

fingers brushed

my brow.

“Together,

we’ll bear witness

to Light’s rebirth,

& Hope’s.”

— C.Birde, 1/21

New Year, Old Friend — A Poem

A bare-branched Linden tree, brightly lit, against a clear-blue winter sky.
“Old Friend (Linden)” — C.Birde, 1/21

Keep at the chase,

the resplendent lights

and roar

of externalized joy

slipping –

annually,

perennially –

through grasping

fingers…

Or…

Make a friend of sorrow

Shake its hand,

learn its curves

and contours,

its bruise-blue depth

and hue

Feel its familiar weight

softly brushed

against the shoulders’

curl

There is no shame here,

in acquaintance

of this humble keeper

of memory –

only an open door

to self-knowing,

a lifetime

of understanding,

recognized.

— C.Birde, 1/21

Wish — An Image

A path through moonlit woods at night...
“Darkness” — C.Birde, 12/20

“I would fashion you

a cloak

of moon- &

starlight…”

Her wish –

a subtle balm –

draped ‘round

my shoulders.

“…to guide you through

this temporary

dark.”

— C.Birde, 12/20

Earth Song — A Poem

“Tourne Pool” — C.Birde, 12/20

Walk the bones

of earth exposed,

those fissures, roots

and stones –

and weep

for the beauty of it all

Our fleeting moment

in it

Our sparking union

with it,

to it

We are one

Large and small

Singular and all

Wild meadow grasses

Stream and river and

and seas’ foaming

edges

Forests, mountains, plains,

and deserts

Clothed

in a garment of light –

sun and moon and star

And remember –

All we see is all

We ever are

Walk the bones

— C.Birde, 12/20

Cast Off — A Poem

The dried husk of a Japanese Lantern flower.
“Japanese Lanterns” — C.Birde, 11/20

Let go.

Cast off all

that no longer serves

but once served well

and now confines,

constrains the growth

of beating heart,

of wing and song.

Begone.

Exceed those strictures;

self-defined exuviae

at last outgrown.

Slip

restrictive shackles and,

through the atmosphere,

a s c e n d.

— C.Birde, 11/20

Hallowed Hollow — A Poem

A tree trunk whose base is hollowed out. Autumn leaves have fallen about its roots.
“Hollow” — C.Birde, 10/20

These words, I whispered into the open door

of the hallowed, hollow tree:

“Open my eyes.

Sweeten my speech.

Soften my heart.

Gentle my hands.

Broaden my mind.

Strengthen my will.

Deepen my soul.

Remove my fear,

that I might better hear

your reply echo

throughout the elements

surrounding.”

And by “my”, I mean “our”;

and by “I”, I mean “we”.

— C.Birde, 10/20

The Lost — A Poem

“Northern Flicker” — C.Birde, 7/20

Things I have lost,

in no particular order:

books & keys & histories;

my halo,

my high horse,

the chip on my shoulder;

pets & friends;

a father, a sister;

my heart,

my head,

my way,

my youth;

sense of self;

an unobstructed view;

faith & trust & confidence;

my grip,

my patience,

my tolerance;

all my defenses &

sense of direction;

I’ve lost count,

lost track,

lost face;

my perspective,

my chances,

my edge.

But of all the things here —

accounted for & overlooked,

irreplaceable or inherent —

I have never lost

your Love,

nor my love

for you.

— C.Birde, 7/20