To Wake Up Early with a Robin
Approaching The Cup
To wake up early with a robin At my window was my fate For months, a week, or was it just a day? It's Song I love, it's Time I hate. Now the years crowd out my darkling bed With ash, grey tablets made of stone... But the door, or is it dawn? is breaking. And Spirit sings into the bone.
I truly love this poem.
Spring is springing! I wrote a short robin poem once. After having watched the males battle for territory around the house I noticed the Victor at the top of a fir tree and wrote this.
The robin flew to the top of the highest tree
Deep breath filled his chest
Pushed through his throat
“ it’s mine”, he cried
“ it’s all mine”
Deep breath filled his chest
Pushed through his throat
His song began at the beginning,
and ended at the end.