Mornings open these days in sun and blue
The golden hue of early dawn framed above within a sky azure in its clarion muted only by the verdance of a wild untamed wilderness, softens brilliance into unclaimed growth. Like caring, bringing hope anew.
A day has dawned despite the passing of bedazzled, sequined light, the one that’s kept us grateful for so long. Fierce compassion, resistance to the darkening of our souls, hard candy at an otherwise empty Christmas, a gift of belief in humanity wrapped inside a dulcet song
I wasn’t thinking so before I heard the news, I was only making coffee, listening on a birding app for all the birds that come to rest and feed, heal and heed the coming of their time to fly into their respective autumns; Red Cardinals, Blue Jays, Goldfinches, American Crows
White-breasted Nuthatches, Brown-headed Cowbirds, Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers, White-crested Flycatchers and Red-eyed Vireos
And today, Tuesday’s yesterday, among the Wrens and Chickadees, Jays and pollinating bees, the distinct songful, clear as belle-like tones,
A Tennessee Warbler
It’s a seemingly unremarkable song, you are tempted to dismiss it much like you might the seemingly plebian country tune
And then that lilt, the trill of joy, you are moved to move
A Tennessee warble of a Tennessee waltz
I didn’t know that she was gone, I was only struck by the plenitude of late summer birdsong
And then I heard, the Belle who strove to calm our inner beasts
We’d only hear her now in tributes, plaintive homages, fulsome memories, the pathos of the joys inside our fulsome burgeoned hearts
Warm and full
Like Love
I think my Warbler came to me like many others came to us, to let us know
The trill and the tremolo, the chirp and the twitter that was love and caring still remain
I’ll always here it now
The call to kindness inside the freedom, wild and free
From the song at summer’s coming end
In the morning
From the Warbler who came to me from Tennessee
mtomas3 