THE SECRET OF BIRDS Phyllis Cole-Dai Outside the window, an hour before dawn, when night weighs heaviest on the neck of the world, one bird with pluck begins to sing I’m here I’m here I’m here A robin— a bluebird— a blackbird— a dove— some feathered throat, perched high to be heard, piping a solo to stir up the rest— the pigeons, the crows, the warblers, the wrens— Every bird, by and by, will add to the mix, down to the most timid sparrow and finch. Perfect riot of sound! Wild rapturous din! We’re here We’re here We’re here
This is the practice of birds in morning: to put the last inch of dark to good use, hoisting the sun with their noisy chorus, trilling and tweeting and chirping and cooing— This is no time for silence. Who can tell us the secret of birds? How they waken so early, day after day, to breathe the cold night into themselves and give it back to the world as song, as light?
Want to listen to a dawn chorus? Click here.
The Gentle Nudge
Join other Rafters this week for . . .
Poetry Pick-Me-Up (Zoom, Thursday, 12:00-1:00PM Central), at this link)
The July Show & Share (via our Chat space at this link)
Other opportunities:
Sign up for “Poems, Prayers, & Promises,” coming in August. Details here.
🧡 Thanks for reading! As part of The Raft, this newsletter is kept afloat by beautiful readers like you. If you like my work, please support it by becoming a paid subscriber, buying my books, or inviting me to speak. And remember to add your 2¢ by leaving comments!
So beautiful….I’m usually up before the birds & so love the sound of the first chirps in the early morning silence ….luckily there are many trees in our neighborhood. My morning bliss. Grateful.
I hear their song as I am typing this by our back yard door :))
Be still my heart