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House Wrens Outside My Window
In the garden's quiet corner,
Amidst the gentle rustle of leaves,
House wrens diligently weave their nests,
A labor of love in the springtime air.
Each twig and blade of grass carefully chosen,
Crafted with precision and purpose,
To create a sanctuary, a haven,
For new life to emerge and thrive.
With each flutter of wings,
A story unfolds,
Of resilience, of hope,
In the cycle of renewal.
In this quiet symphony of nature,
There is no need for rhyme or reason,
Just the simple beauty,
Of life finding its place,
In the tapestry of existence.
Copyright ©
Don Iannone
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