“My heart beats
in all creatures,
far & near
seen & unseen…”
Her words hung
in the air
betwixt snowflakes
falling.
“My heart beats
in
you.”
— C.Birde, 2/21
Right foot here,
Left foot there
Spine straight
Hips square
Ribs knit
Chest lifted
Earth rooted
Heaven crowned…
Observe Tree Pose
& clearly see
similarity
to The Hanged Man
(reversed):
Release
Detachment
Altered View
Fear of Sacrifice
Drishti set
on the horizon
Balance & surrender
Vain struggles cease
Find, in equilibrium,
freedom to embrace
this change
in perspective,
freedom to accept
what
is.
— C.Birde, 2/21
Solitary passenger
in the way, way back
of this long green
station wagon
Tailgate gaping
Sweet tabby cat
(alternating gray
& tea-with-cream)
for company
Far up front –
with select passengers –
the vehicle’s pilot
guides it backwards
along a curving road
as, to the left,
the great, gray sea
falls down, away,
& to the right
& overhead twists
a jungle-y clamor
of green
See?
Amongst those vines
& great broad leaves,
the Good Lord Bird!
And more –
Downy,
Red-Headed,
-Bellied…
Uncharacteristically
slipping sturdy beaks
into vibrant blooms
& sipping
Elating
Breathtaking
Calling out their names
& pointing
But to whom?
For they,
so far up front,
so far away,
can’t see.
— C.Birde, 2/21
The gray remains
Ubiquitous
Unchallenged
Bleak winter sky,
drained of color,
extends its influence
Except…
Except for her —
Take my hand
See there, ahead?
Her once-dark-hair
now silvered violet?
Watch her cross
the intersection, see?
Pause here with me
The light,
so slow to change…!
Impatient, we cross
& follow where she leads
up streets unpeopled –
empty, too, of traffic –
her lead by swift steps
increasing until,
down an alleyway she slips
& vanishes completely.
But wait….
This shop unknown…
& there,
beyond plate glass see
her hair?
Sleek lavender strands
a-gleam through laden
wire shelves?
Shelves replete with sweets
of every kind
in Prismacolor hues –
cakes & cookies, pies,
macarons;
pink & green, fuchsia, blue.
Each sweet with care
displayed
& oh so beautiful.
Yes, of course
Take your time
Wander
Look before you choose.
But here,
this single slice of cake –
frosted white,
layers bright cerulean blue –
is mine.
— C.Birde, 1/21
Walking…
Walking through
a monochrome sea
of time-washed
macadam
devoid of lines,
of delineations…
On and onward
Each footfall,
a pulse unheard
Tirelessly moving
through this lost
and absented place
beneath first one,
then a second
overpass pressed –
in heavy arch and
swing;
a frown, a grin –
against a watery sky
Piercing
the dull shadows
of those vulturous
crossings,
consumed by half-light…
A road ahead,
hitherto unseen,
emerging,
uncurling,
curving outward
to meet a wide,
empty highway
Seeing,
on the further curve
(that generous hip
of curb),
lawn- and folding chairs
arranged and occupied
as if to spy
some soon-to-come
parade
Recognizing one
(see? he waves?)
among their numbers
Waiting now for the
solitary car to pass,
then another,
until it’s safe
to cross and join
the small throng gathered
in a wedge of light
that sifts between
the intersecting over-
passes sweeping
past and
overhead.
— C.Birde, 1/21