Sweet… — A Truth

Bleeding Heart.jpg

“Bleeding Heart” — C.Birde, 4/20




I follow his example –

as explained to me –

and, palm placed

against the cage

of that muscled



There, there,

sweet heart,

there, there…”

Does he weep

as he repeats

these words


I cannot,

do not



— C.Birde, 4/20


Duality — A Poem

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“Shadow-Self” — C.Birde, 4/19


The universe intended


for extroversion,

but the stars


the message was



— now —

of two spirits,

two skins,

two selves


At ease




— C.Birde, 4/19


Confession — A Truth


“Empty” — C.Birde, 3/19


Inward turning…my personal weather, a stillness, a vacuum…the “doldrums” (nautical term, describing an equatorial region of the Atlantic Ocean, marked by still air, sudden storms,  unpredictable winds). I prefer the earth beneath my feet, certainty… Adrift, all the same… The sensation manifests — in a shortness of breath, a faint lack of oxygen; as a heaviness in my gut. I am not unhappy, no. Unfocused, yes; “at sea”, so it seems. A pattern. Free of resistance, denial, struggle, I sit in its company, as if with someone I’ve known. Too long. A lifetime. We occupy shared space, absent of dialogue. Lonely, but comfortable. And then — interruption. Gwynnie leaps into my lap (open invitation to any cat). Her purr, a revelation. Her hard little head (thrust against my chin) confirmation of here, now. Physical reminder, in all her warm, fuzzy critterness — slack sails will fill and stir; the compass, reorient… Spring, too, will leap unexpectedly. (As a cat.) Woodland trails will call…chipmunks, uncurl from  nests…birdsong, inscribe the pulsing air… Reminder that I will feel — again, soon — the quick green tremble of everything. And this immersion — so imminent — this reconnection, and close observation will feed, refuel: body, mind, spirit. Creative well. Whole.

A lot to lay on a season, but Spring can take it.


— C.Birde, 3/19