I believe in birds

Along the honeysuckled lane, I ran

to where the little bird pairing began,

and there I understood at last

why I had come so far, so fast.

On every branch of every tree

a fledgling perched, ready to fly for me.

I’m still watching my birds closely, especially the young taking their first flights.  Their unsteady descents from the nest, moments of rest to rebalance and compose before the next instinctive surge compels the unsure to launch and become airborne.

The little verse above is not really mine, I pinched a few lines from Summer Morning by Rose Fyleman, which is really about fairies I changed a few of the words as my wonder, light, and sparkle are definitely bird-shaped just now.

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