Posted by wlebolt
How brave the mother cardinal,
perched atop the feeder,
not feeding, but performing,
not performing, but calling.
With words I do not know, but a voice I dearly do.
I am here! I have a message for you! Come!
She calls out and waits, calls out and waits,
for the answering call
in a pitch and rhythm and expression she already knows,
“I hear you. Wait there. I am coming.”
How does she know there will be an answer?
How does she know how to call, what to say, to whom she calls?
Yet, without fear or hesitation,
Her voice rings out again and again,
into the silence.
She has more faith than I, this mother cardinal.
More boldness, more courage.
Instinctive – there is no thought at all to this display!
And yet, do not I have this instinct born also in me?
This desire to call out,
in a pitch all my own,
with a tone and a voice and a message uniquely mine
and then to listen,
for a voice I do not know,
and yet do.
Posted on March 30, 2015, in Body, God, Instinct, poetry and tagged birds, calling, contemplative, courage, Lent, listening, message, nature, prayer, waiting. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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