A bird sings a song

But it has a voice

I think

That’s a magpie calling

But the bird

Sings its words

According to choice

As do I

Calling in my voice

Of the sky and the sea

In human dialect

Familiar

Strange

And somewhere beneath

Is me

Poetry

Cadence

Rhythm

And how we are taught

As individuals

As WE

Learning

Over and over

Who is this one who sings

I call

Me

That is separate from we

And wondering

Why all language

Is learned

Then freed

To run through the heart strings

Disgorging from chests

Pouring into people

We haven’t yet met

That are walking by

And yet

Get

Me

A small bird singing

Separate tunes

It sounds almost human

But mixed in the pitch

And roll

Is that wave I surfed

All the way to the shore

A sandy soul

Burnt shoulders

Freckles marching

On footprints left on boulders

And a stray pinecone

That fell from a tree

Kicked along by a child

That I encountered

And added

To my thoughts

Whistled inside

To form a tune

Fell beneath fingers

That tapped

It to you

And your eyes bounded along

To the sound of a dream

Caught in the ether

Carried on a breeze

Tune

*good morning x