Matin

11 Replies

Matin

What kind of a world
does a bird feel itself a part of
that prods it to such a joyous song
in celebration of her beauties?

Sun barely risen,
air crisp and cool,
not a breath of air stirs the
vibrant golden hibiscus
to cause the fall
of one palm-sized petal
onto the dew-damp grass below.

No clouds obscure
one puff of steam
rising from the distant volcano
that peeks over the
hills above the lake––
not one ripple on its calm surface.

I lie on my bed,
apart from this still morning,
making lists––

only a glimpse
of that bird’s world
on view through my window’s parted curtain,
as I listen to this constant oration
of its joy over being born
into this world.

I somehow in the editing erased the prompt for this poem and I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. If it strikes a chord with you and you think you know of a prompt it might have been written for, please put a link in comments. I am definitely losing it, folks!!!

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About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

11 thoughts on “Matin”

  2. Marilyn Armstrong's avatarMarilyn Armstrong

    What a beautiful bird! What is he? Not surprisingly, we hear a lot of birdsong in the morning. Loud enough for Garry to hear them even with windows closed. If only we would stop cutting down the trees so they could have homes and nests. The available space gets smaller and smaller, acre by acre.

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