Mourning

Written in April, 2017

Mourning

This morning I spoke

To a bright little bird

I understood what was said

Without understanding a word

With a tilt of the head,

The clacking sound of its beak

We communicated more

Than I had in a week

With hope that our talk

Would continue to flow 

That bright little bird

Flew, from my window

so,

tonight, while sitting at home

I will search for my chum

Who did not judge me or scold me:

Just sang a sweet song

Author's Note

i write what pops into my head without too much thought. My little bits of writing are not complicated or deep: just like me

Reviews

[adornoscousin]

I like this simple poem. We need to commune with nature more. And we can do this in simple unexpected ways.

[Lea Sheryn]

Wonderful! I like this! :-))

[serendipity]

I really liked the theme of your poem. It was well written, could have been a tad longer. It's a beautiful poem :)

[jim]

Thank you for your critique

[heith.ash]

its just so beautiful.nature always gives happiness.especially the small little creatures around us.
such a beautiful poem.

[bigfootprint]

This is a keeper, Jim. You give us a double shot of realism and of humor. And, the rhyme works itself out. I too have had conversations with a bird, a robin that came tapping on my window. He followed me from room to room for weeks. I had the eerie feeling he was more than just a bird. Funny thing, after several sessions (visits), I silenced my mind and got the message in mental images. Fascinating stuff, this bird talk. Excellent work. Thanks for sharing. -- Doug

[jim]

Thank you, Doug

[John the Baptist]

If this one was meant to be taken literally, it is an example of how the simple presentness of an animal can soothe the pained soul more than an ocean of human words.

[jim]

John, your comment got me looking closer to the words. I can see how it could be read as something more than literal, Thank you.