Birdwatchers are not clock-watchers
Fishermen are not either
Avid readers are not clock-watchers
Neither are violin makers
Or ship-builders
We now stand where right where we were
as the curtains opened ~ the conductor peeking through
Deja vu
"Birds care not for whom they sing" - Silent One
For infants who feel the art of hearing for the first time...
For kids who don't distinguish between a rhyme and a chime...
For children growing up, seeing beings and non-beings...
When singing, does any bird care for anyone's feelings?
For students who are weighed down by loads of learning burdens...
For teachers who are occupied with their molding missions...
For parents who constantly care for their children's dealings...
When singing, does any bird care for anyone's feelings?
For hunters who're alert with a gun or bow and arrow...
For ornithologists who know birds of every barrow...
For birdwatchers who are fond of birds feeding on gleanings...
When singing, does any bird care for anyone's feelings?
For any vagabond, nomad, wanderer, or migrant
For any god, goddess, angel, cherubim, sage, or saint
For humans of selfish, sarcastic, sadistic leanings
When singing, does any bird care for anyone's feelings?
Birdwatchers try to name us,
Wishing they could be us;
But you cannot blame us,
If, despite who sees us,
Whatever fate befalls us,
We don’t care what they calls us.
I'm struggling to wake up,
rubbing my sensitive eyelids,
I may need more sleep;
awesome is the resplendent
morning dispersing its light,
I perceive it as a sumptuous woman
wearing a green dress as Nature does!
The first thing I do is to whisper
a prayer different in tone and meaning,
my thankfulness to Him transcends a feeling
that reflects an immense appreciation for the precious life
I am living and not projecting emotions felt as trite...
always rendering them profound and equally fair!
The golden gleams of an awakening sun,
crown the tops of the Longleaf pines with diamonds,
not those that wealthy women wear at a ball to be noticed;
these sunbeams rays embellish their branches and make them sparkle
of a great luminescence that even astonishes the raging, fading moon
unwilling to miss the spectacle unfolding with intense images;
the Chirping sparrows have been warbling since the early dawn
and the Orchard orioles parched on spruces are somewhat sad
not have been able to perform and be admired by birdwatchers,
ah, their whistling melodies must wait for silence as they become hostile!
birdwatchers
scrambling off the bus
wild turkeys
Moonset/2012
Burrowing Owls are found in open, dry grasslands, agricultural and range lands, and desert habitats often associated with burrowing animals, particularly prairie dogs, ground squirrels and badgers.
Yes, I love a hole in the ground
(I didn't even dig it.)
but also circle and suddenly
swoop down on small scampering things
like Vole or Mouse
or listen for the faint susurrus
of Dragon's tiny wings.
Avoiding birdwatchers
(*****Binocularis)
That's the big problem,
I mean how can you hide
from snakes and hawks,
much less sleep a little
when a busload of birders
roars by stopping to point
out Badger's old burrow
while waiting for you to get up
and perch on a pasture post.
What's to be done?
They've studied you,
They know all your habits
and will out your burrow,
you can't really hide.
(Does the Legion accept owls?)
Then, I forget that when made
by God, evolution or both
I promised to define the sky
while steadfastly ensconced
in the beautiful earth.
Published Magnapoets/2008
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