When the Message Comes
A voice I heard in the sunken gardens
while walking the pathway to my office.
Above me in an old fir tree sat
the child of Minerva, looking down at me;
bedecked in white, brown and black feathers.
I stopped and asked what he wanted,
he gave a, “who’ot who’ot”;
feeling flooded my spirit in the
twilit morning of those calm and
brilliantly lit eyes blinking at me.
“Is that so?” I teased.
Clearly he had something to say to me
that I should hear, so I stopped.
“Who’ot who’ot, who’ot who’ot”,
he kept repeating as I stood there.
Instinctively, I asked, “Why?”
Then teased, “Are you sure?”
“Who’ot who’ot, who’ot who’ot”.
“Okay, if you say so.” I replied
in jest and walked on.
I got called to a job interview that day,
then actually got the job.
Nature works in mysterious ways;
a friendly call from a bird,
a feather on the floor of a build when
no birds in sight;
an oversized monarch on a windowpane;
harbingers of wisdom,
free for our hearts.
Synchronicity occurs
that great consciousness
which some call god or goddess
will ring our soul’s doorbell
whenever it’s necessary;
be sure to answer.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2020
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