Bird World (Poetry)

He is there — half-hidden high among the leaves
his blush of feathers blurred by all that green
waving, moving, restless in a wind
that tugs and worries while he sits unseen
apart from me, yet close — I feel his stare
watching — for he knows I know he’s there.

He rides the branch — its dipping roller-coaster sway
his grip is sure despite the random ride
the heaving air’s deep swell and sudden counterflow
I feel its echo answer — the returning tide
as though our roles are switched sensation has me cling
to his small world where instinct governs everything...

And from that moment I am lost yet found again
I know the elements like my own blood
my vision’s sharpened to a simple bird’s-eye view
I’m free of fear so have no need of God
for time is meaningless — all thought is of the now
and hanging on to tree-life’s rocking, rolling bough.