I.
Baby sparrows, so tiny and small
There’s three of them
hopping along the grass
The dew glistens all around
A new delight to discover
with every peck and nibble
Their tiny bodies wait
Their parents know what to do
while they frolic and play
They gather up their fill
to feed their new flock
The babies are distracted
and wowed at every step
II.
The baby robin follows its mama
hopping along, just two steps behind
Is it learning how to hunt and gather?
or is it just playing as it moves
along paths discovered and replayed
by ancestors that have no name;
no memory but their habits remain:
When to leave, when to nest
Where to go year after year;
It isn’t even a question
but a shared understanding
a survival of trust and knowing
We are all on the same path
of discovery, of remembering
our true Nature is never buried
for long
It lives in these bones, and this blood
that shares the same shade as you.
Tag: birds
New growth of spring
Tender shoots of light
greens and pinks
They burst open
bright and wide
to receive nourishment
from the sun
Though no rain has come,
I know it will wet
and glisten the earth once more
and all of nature will rejoice
Stand still in that warm sun
let the breeze come and go
as a smile forms on your lips
and the corners of your eyes
upturn like the bird now
in the sky mid-flight
Where does it go?
Where does our joy, our pain, our sorrows go?
They are tender shoots
deep inside
that need some tending too
A blizzard of epic proportions
Snow descended from the sky
white covered our heads, land, and air
Everything came to a standstill:
no work, no school, nowhere to go
We huddled and waited
warm arms and hearts
Yet my winged neighbors could not be still
They lunged at the feeder as it spun
clutching on for some seed
I’d like to think I helped them
survive the storm with purpose
Our windows were covered in white snow
making it almost impossible to look out
We had to wait for the worst of the worst
before we could venture out
wind howled and I held my breath
watching the cardinals and sparrows gave me strength
if they could weather this storm
– outside no less –
I could and would too
Finally we opened the front door
Snow greeted us and dropped
onto our heads and carpeted floor
Determined with shovels in hand
we stepped out into this three-feet snow-covered land
to dig our way out and back into the world
Fury and Might
Bright blue sky with a half moon
Snow stubbornly clung to the limbs of the maple tree.
The winds howled in fury and might.
How will all of nature’s critters survive this long night?
Their fluffy feathers and huddled flock
got them through the darkest of the dark
and in the morning they greet me still
They nibble and grab the seed in my feeder
and gather their strength once more
Despite the fury and might
We might just get out of this blistery cold without a fight.
The fright is aplenty as any can show.
I still enjoy the spectacle of snow
The fire’s aglow and it keeps us warm.
I dare not step outside again
Come spring we celebrate
the darkest of the dark we weathered
and grew in wisdom and time
Inner resilience and self-reliance
can get us through this storm
Baby & Mama birds
Baby starling with its
soft downy feathers
- fluffy fragile thing -
It waits on the ground
only a week from
leaving its nest
Hungry mouth
always in need of
nourishment
Greater than being sequestered
no longer in its shell and
strong enough to walk
awkward
but tuned to its parents
its survival depends on it
what seems fragile and tiny
has already overcome so many feats
It answers the call
Bursts disrupt the silence
a happy reunion
of chatter and feeding
Fledgling follows the call
until the need for nourishment
once again becomes too strong
All too quick
the hungry mouths
have not met its full
A growing baby bird
demands it and its
parents answer the call.
The mockingbird
The mockingbird laughs outside
on a tall branch of the tree.
It brings the joy
and the reminder
that laughter heals.
It is good medicine
to lighten up
to be lighthearted.
It makes all the moments
of the day
just that more precious.
To hear the mockingbird,
I am reminded of all
my bird visitors I have
come to know
just by being still enough
Quiet enough
to recognize their unique markings
knowing that I too am my own
unique expression.
The first signs of spring
The purple crocus appears
it burrows through
the hardened earth and pushes away
Dead leaves of seasons past.
A pop of color haphazard amid
the gray and browns
of yesteryear
All in perfect timing.
The starling is perched above me
a thin twine ensnared and jutting
across its strong beak
Nesting time is here.
Another starling calls out
a steady, monotone cry
its glistening purple and blue
head and stark beady yellow
eyes. The tail pure green turquoise
How unique its color
its cry
Blades of tiny green
fill in and around the patches of brown
new growth and hardily
All in perfect timing
Even After
Even after the unimaginable
happened, the sunrise arrived
in all its colorful
glory. The flock of birds perched on
the distant tall trees. Their dark bodies
silhouette in the incoming light.
I watch their feathered flight
from treetop to treetop.
Can they see the wider view?
This tragedy happened and
the world moves on. My heart stopped
a beat and I wept. I stifled a scream
in my throat that rattled inside my head.
Why such injustice?
Why take such an innocent?
The touch of a child’s lock of hair,
a small hand inside of mine.
The beauty and the potential
Snuffed out in one senseless act.
I breathe and watch the light blue
and pale pink sky rise over me.
The hope and promise
that a new day brings.
I hear my child sing as she plays
unaware of the recent events.
I try to keep her innocent and safe.
Let the play come, feel the joy
wrapped in creative safety.
I hold her close,
even if she doesn’t understand why.
In memory of Liam James Dempsey
May 15, 2019 - March 21, 2024
ALL THE BLOOMS
All the blooms have paid their visit. They fulfilled their roles to completion. Now green leaves of every hue remain on the branches. All the trees marinate and meld into just a tree Where the blooms easily identified the species. Now they are a forest of trees Indistinguishable to the undiscerning eye. One lone red maple stands out from the rest. Does the species of tree matter to the nesting bird Tending to their fragile, precious young? Maybe. Sturdy, tall, with camouflaged branches They call home. I call it nature’s greenery.
Remember
Remember the scent of the lilacs. How the air just embodied their aroma and drifted it into the windows into my lungs. Remember when they were teeny tiny buds. How 5-year old Lilly marveled at their small size. Little purple bumps bursting from the green. Remember the Easter lilies and this was the first year I got so low to the ground I could actually smell them for the first time. Remember the towering orange iris. Remember the hearty rosebush. Remember the mimosa tree that once stood proud, colorful and fragrant. Now an empty shell. Bare branches. The weakened trunk sways with a gentle push. Remember the dogwood’s white blossoms and Lilly called the neighbor’s pink blossoms “flower snow” as they fell and covered the ground in small piles of soft pink. Remember the woodpecker, the cardinal, the new birds that decided to stop by for a visit. Remember the bunny rabbit, like Old Faithful, arrives around dinner time looking for her evening meal as well. Remember the hawk perched on top of the playset as a squirrel huddled and hid under the child’s chair unmoving and the hawk ever patient. Remember the blue jays that harassed and chased that hawk away and the squirrel that timidly crawled commando style and lived another day. Remember the sweet breeze from the ocean even reaching here not so close to the shore and how I marveled at the salty refreshing air. Remember the first kiss. The special rock overlooking the bay and our life began together. Remember that tender beginning love is still here under the surface. A beloved memory but always here in my heart.
Healing Insights 