every morning, i attend the dawn chorus.


every morning, familiar voices
every morning, a different song.


the sky rests, yawns, stretches


if i arrive early enough to take my seat,
i feel/fill the space of the auditorium


measuring time by the lightening sky
and ascending choir


rattling thud of the woodpecker


the birds, caretakers of the landscape trill brightly


robin, thrush, brown creeper, nuthatch, towhee, chickadee, junco, crows, geese, raven
quail, geese, finch, and siskin


whirr of the hummingbird's wings


myriad tiny birds who i've yet to meet


the transit of the last dinosaurs


clouds drift past slowly and calmly


a ship's horn


deer trace an ancestral path down the slope,
i trace an ancestral path to the present


wisps of dreams echo through my head


i feel immense gratitude to be able
to share this moment with these neighbours,
and to feel the warmth of the sun alongside them.


the planet rotates and traces its orbit
the moon watches and protects
the universe holds us all together


i wave at the passing deer


the world as it was before me
as it will be after me



i breathe and feel death

i breathe and feel life

i breathe and feel contentment



vibrating through husks of past selves
mind preparing for the journey ahead


sounds of unknown/unseen lands


hear the roar of civilization tearing through the landscape


ugly roar of engines,
like obnoxious drunks yelling over a performance


the barking, hissing, entitled beasts
with whom we've invaded


native species allow us to coexist with them even though we slaughter them and destroy their homes unflinchingly



breathe



inside. i turn on the classical station


i sip tea, take a multivitamin


eat a glob of granola



breathe



let anxiety pass
let 'the news' wait


try again


continue



breathe



outside.


lie down staring at the sky's infinite depth


a flicker drums on the roof


a chickadee bathes on a leaf


a curious junco investigates


a baby raven krawks for food


a quail creeps through a bush


a hummingbird lands on a nearby twig and looks at me


i smile





scribbled across a few spring mornings in 02020