A morning’s reflection. You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.
In the morning stillness While the family sleeps, Twilight finds its way in As does an unseasonable coolness Which blows through the opened windows.
The morning walkers make their way Up the street telling yesterday’s stories And sharing the day’s tasks which Animate with an energy of excitement or anxiety. But louder than they, and more constant, Are the birds.
From each corner of the yard, A mockingbird shows off his repertoire. A pair of cardinals at the bird feeder Take turns and chirp: “Eat. Eat.” The song sparrows and finches patiently wait But then push in at their turn. And there from a birch limb, A chickadee flies in and back With his takings.
On the deck floor below, A squirrel waits and works The tactics and trigonometry of theft. While beside me, our cat, Milo, Watches from the window sill, Loaded with longing.
And here, The earnest, present zeal Of creation and creature Calls me to the care Of Providence Whose birds Sing lauds.
When you wait for movement, When you stand on your toes And stretch your neck and squint To see the horizon, To see that for which you had hoped, The peristalsis of time slows To a crawl and sleeps Or at best slips and slogs Like a slug along the sidewalk.
Time, like an old man bent Under the weight and burden Of age and waiting and hope again, Again deferred, Shuffles and schleps With that for which we long Like he’s carrying lead From bathroom to sink, To recliner, and back to bed To doze in dreamless sleeps Through grey days And moonless nights As we wait.