robin's evensong

and matins outburst..

last eve..the sun.. setting
jet pink across the island silhouettes..
strewn with northwest cloud familiarity
i heard the emphatic call of the robin..
she was invisible to eye yet to ear
she was presence incarnate..
slowly i snuck to the edge of the rock wall..
there she be..
claiming the evening as her own..
bowing and praising the glory day

the lyrics of her prayer-song
all agog
with love
and wonder
and giddy
hallelujahs..
intoxicated with the high holies of the hour,
the colour,
the grace glow that the very moment
now
was pulsing down upon us all..
she .. our witness..
i see this
i know this
i love this
i am this..

morning cold and still grey from the night trail..
she or her soulmate sister or brother..
wooing the good kind morning
to show a tender face..
again the call to prayer..
to quiver us up and at it..
she sings..
we are brimful of wonder for the brilliance of new day..
we are awake each in the magnitude of dawn
dawning us fresh and wholesome and free from heartache and loss..
though those are carved on us..etched..
they fray not the edges of our astonishment ~
not this day,
not this morning,
not this