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
