At My Window
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Written on December 27, 2023
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On the window feeder,
Gray and black birds, feathered families,
Playful and perky, frolicking
Like the music beneath their down,
Plumes rich as a caress, stirring joy,
Wonders, shadowed by the pastel noon,
Dreamy hearted wings, graceful
As the moment before lips widen
Into a smile, reflecting all the magic,
Fairy-tale laughter, chirping,
Songs written by the moon and stars,
Silent as the heart, unspoken,
Beyond broken – thoughts soaring,
As the hand releases the seed,
To be devoured by nature’s flock,
Hesitant, nearly weeping,
Reflected on the dew, dripping,
Washing away the dust, the silence,
With a hesitant gaze into yesterday,
Where the prayer, understood,
Weighed the heart, the soul…
On the window feeder,
Standing patient and persistent,
Twittering eagerly, waiting
For the seeds, the kernels, fare
Meant to host the musicians,
Choirs of winged artists,
Stunning performers who calm,
Hush the darkness of a forest,
With their reticence,
Quiet kindness stirring apart,
Trembling leaves,
Breathless oaks, pines,
Memories designed to invite…
Beautiful to the light,
Wonderful to the night,
Magnificent, so glistening, bright.
On the window feeder,
Standing, curious…
Motionless, yet ready to soar,
Rising into the azure skies,
In one fluid motion,
Willowy and wistful, elegant
Nearly as enthusiastic as a star
Glitter from the heavens,
Revealing the treasure of the choir,
Music, praising, ever praising…
From the feeder, where they play,
Follow the leader – a waltz,
Danced perchance, on the winds,
Where hope once promised
Winged blessings, extoled – worship,
Like a lullaby, soft and gentle –
Always remembered!
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2023
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