There’s a bird I watch from my window
She comes day after day
Soaring on the up draughts
Born of stormy winds
Never fluttering a wing
Easy
Queen of the sky
Not a care or concern can be seen
And as Lawrence wrote
“I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself
A small bird drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
And me?
The world weighs heavy on my thoughts
Self pity offers false sanctuary
Only to fill my thoughts again
With the things that steal my peace
Deceptive solace
Making me unable to accept
The life that I live
And if now I fell to the ground
Would I find myself mired
in concerns?
Witnessing this life
Will I allow my light to fade?
Or can I find it in myself
To become that bird in flight,
Lifted not trapped
Riding the ensnaring thoughts
That tempt me to indulge and wallow,
Lifting up to an unawareness
That self indulgence is a thing.
Finding that troubles are a means
To soar and harness expression
Of the perfection I came to be.