The earth wears gilt
Thy sky runs pewter blue
And I…
I think of you
My bones catch the whiff
of Winter and
rattle in their frame
And all my thoughts
my hopes
of future warmth —
like migratory birds —
return always
to you.
— C.Birde, 11/20
“And when,
in moments of duress,
you forget me…”
Ferns & moss furred
her voice.
“Worry not.
For I
will always remember
you.”
— 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
“Each leaf
tells the story of the tree,”
she said,
“each feather,
the story of the bird.
With each word you speak
& path you choose,
you cast your own story
out into the world…”
A rustle stirred in her
green-sprouted heart.
She smiled, bent close, & whispered:
“But always & ever,
the choosing
is yours.”
— 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
“Gently, gently, gently.”
From Autumn’s house,
she called;
doors & windows
wide open flung.
“Your grasp –
so tight upon the latch –
restricts advancement
into
light.”
— C.Birde, 10/20
Sweet tang of autumn air,
cidery
cool enough to drink
through all the senses
Leaves fall like small fading
stars
to light the path ahead
forward into unknowing
I lift my cup to you in welcome,
dear heart,
and pour a second.
I have been
waiting.
— C.Birde, 10/20
Together,
apart.
We sit beneath
& within
the cool blue-green shade
of the great spruce tree,
with coffee &
grief &
glee,
& we feed all who come –
chipmunk & squirrel,
tufted titmouse,
jay & red-belly.
Hearts brimming,
undone,
we feed all who come.
Apart,
together.
My sister
& me.
— C.Birde, 10/20
Always…
always,
forever & a day,
the sea at its base
heaving
breathing
exhaling salt spray
each deep indrawn breath
released
in swell & spume against
granite slabs & stacks,
blocks & columns…
And those longstanding stones,
grooved equally with age,
call out in reply:
Yes, oh yes…
Wear away our ancient bones…
Grind down our blades & edges…
Relieve us – bit by bit by bit –
of our ponderousness…
Blunt us… Smooth us…
Spread us out beneath your
foam-laced tide…
Grant us curves unknown,
unfelt before your touch
‘till we emerge,
reformed.
Always streaming,
stroking,
singing
in ceaseless gray-green respiration,
the sea accepts all pleas,
all hopes, all griefs…
laps & soothes & polishes…
Ever willing to oblige,
always,
always,
forever & a day,
the sea receives,
survives.
— C.Birde, 9/20
“Cherish me,
praise me,
revere me –
or not.
As you will.”
She filtered
light & dark,
wind & rain
as she spoke.
“I will shelter you,
regardless.”
— C.Birde, 9/20