NaturesOde

 

  Not a cozy corner firm Safe to lodge the Robin's nest But a branch placed o'er the Stream Bobbing close to peril's worst. And the wind just adds a threat And the hatchlings struggle so. But the Mother tends them yet. Day by day these fragile grow. And they come to trust the place That most others would avoid And they see their Mother's face And her handiwork deployed.

  The rock has left a gap And a crack and a niche And some lichen for nutrition That my tendrils barely reach. And the sun draws out my best Ere it sets into the west. ________________________ The wind has left its mark Since the day my green arose And it pushed my every upreach To an odd and eastering pose. And the sudden lightning crack Took a neighbour at my back. __________________________ The waves have measured time As their force invades the shore And they crash and ebb a rhythm Heard a million times before. And the white gulls ride the spray ‘Til they float at end of day. __________________________ And so this little isle I command as epochs pass. First the beaver, then the hunter Then the paler face at last. And so few, my tales have heard. Just the rock and wind and bird.

 

  Mother bird, oh red-wing, Valiant is the sight, Of your hot pursuing Raiding crow in flight. Skyward still dispatching From your stream-side nest. Careful of each hatchling, Startled from its rest. Swooping, pecking, diving, Driving threat away. Instinct for surviving Rules the air today? Mother heart, oh wonder! Sad you didn’t know, From the brush down under Comes the second crow.

He stands there Just like a professor. In blue-gray So tall and so thin. His stride is quite Slow and deliberate. I’ve known many Men just like him. His wings both Behind him for balance. His neck craning Forth in some search. And so keenly fixed, His attention. This could be his Classroom or church. His stilt-like, gold Limbs raise no ripple. His beaky head Slightly askew. The pond’s mirrored Surface reflection Takes of this great Bird, and makes two. Then stops his stiff Perambulation. Long neck and beak Flash in the sun. To raise in a Silvery splatter, His fish breakfast, Expertly won.

  Life flows all through it The roots took their time The trunk showed the tensions Of harsh winter time. But spring brought some height And graceful new span. The sap sweet and flowing The green thrilling Man. But years still were needed Ere fruit would abound And some branches culled out For plants to stay sound. Their moisture a mystery Their sweetness a joy. Community thriving In  Vintner’s employ.