Four thirty a.m.
The “chree-chree-chree”
sounds in the far off
greeny bog.
“Whis-tle” “whis-tle” “whis-tle”
returns the call,
floating notes through the open window.
A chorus of chirps and cheeps
overlap like leaves in a pile
at the singing tree,
all the feathered throats announcing–
messaging, instantly–
a new day
never-been-done day,
it’s-another-start-day.
So I rise, weary,
but no more wondering
at their noisy insistence-
I’d shout and sing, too–
this day, this dawn
is new.
This poem is filled with such joy and hope. Somehow only poetry can express certain aspects of the natural world. Thank you for sharing this with me, Jody! Much love to you!
beautiful, jody!
LOVE the tree photo and LOVE the words you shared. Thank you so much!