“Wake!”
she pleaded,
“How can you sleep?
When poppies bloom
in hues of peaches,
dawn, &
mourning doves’
spun-sugar
feet?”
— C.Birde, 7/20
Slumber — An Image
Dissolve — A Poem
Step through
this weight of air
heavy with rain unshed
that beads along
the fine hairs of
arms and lashes.
Slowly, enveloped.
Melting.
Skin kissed with
atmospheric breath.
The barriers dissolve.
We are
one.
— C.Birde, 7/20
Oaks — An Image
Wind ran
through the trees
like water,
like laughter.
“The oaks,”
she confided
winking,
“are ticklish.”
— C.Birde, 6/20
Unison — A Poem
Trees bend their crowns, assembling.
Flicker drums and summons thunder.
Ferns fold themselves to rain and
Oriel soars by on wings of fire.
Swallow whole the arc and heave and glide,
heart spread wide, unbolted.
Separation tumbles, falters.
Gather up each worn stone, fallen
to mark that untamed, sacred place,
where truth emerged without, within
in full-throated unison
that all are one is all
are one
is all.
— C.Birde, 6/10
Respite — An Image
“Leave
your offerings
on the threshold —
your weight of
stones &
bones &
hearts’
clipped wings.”
She spoke
with the Forest’s
throat.
“I will tend them
while you
rest.”
— C.Birde, 6/20
Bide… — An Image
“Wait…”
She took my hand.
“Bide with me,
until understanding
grows.”
Silently,
the flowers bloomed
and held
their perfumed
breath.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Scorpion-Free — a Poem
White-footed
meets
white foot
in size seven
garden shoe.
Furred meets
furless.
Warmth to
trembling,
whiskered
warmth.
Sustained,
untrained
diaphragmatic
“E” .
Instinctive —
achievement
of breath.
No scorpions
here.
All the same,
shake out
your boots.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Tumble — An Image
“Tumble…”
She spoke in
a hundred voices,
a thousand voices;
in one.
“Fall
into the wreath
of my arms
&
remember.
Remember
l o v e.”
— C.Birde, 5/20
Stitched & Strewn — A Poem
These lush
green days
damp and cool
and stitched
with bird song
strewn like gifts
unwrapped
petals scattered
everywhere
white
chartreuse
careless pink
one thing
to do —
Thank you
thank you.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Witness — An Image
An offering
of self
in blue-eyed
stare –
wholly
h o l y.
A world
all its
own.
Nothing more,
nothing
l
e
s
s.
— C.Birde, 5/20
