Someday, when not engaged, I will repose
And close my mumbling mouth and eyes as well
And flourish, harking to the birds that chose
My wooded yard and neighborhood to dwell.
Without superfluous tinkles and sounds,
Without distractive moods,
Without another soul present,
A study of nature's songbook is found:
A nourished, mental food
Overpassing all else that is pleasant.
My hope remains that when I stand, I shall
Be able to identify the songs
Of each and every bird, and so recall
At any time beauty, through crowded throngs,
Through bustling boredom, languishing laments
And remain creative
Because within those melodies -
Within each family, all birds accent
The self-same song - it lives
In strains with variation endlessly.
June 10, 16
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