Birds of Pray. May our prayers take wing and perch in the heavens.

On top of the pines

they speak in tongues

and redress a cycling of days.

They walk upon the sky

and intersect with wings

aflame by the sun.

It is an aviary of prayer

of limitless tone.

I am not alone.


The field is an amphitheater

catching and throwing

the sounds of mourning.

A duet of doves seize the day.

Carpe diem tweaks the dew

and lifts redemption again.

The blackbird’s night song

fades into light.

Birds over Computer Fan

The rite of spring is singing louder.

Louder than my computer fan.

The blue jays are shouting.

The robins are talking over the fence.

The sparrows and chickadees are speed dialing.


This is the first spring in the country.

The window is cupped open.

My ears are too,

and the sounds send me back


to a dead end street of so much traffic.

Starlings would bounce from shrub to shrub.

Plump orange bellies would bow and pull up breakfast.


I could almost hear baby-blue

eggs cracking.


Oh how I miss my mother brooding over us.



© Gerald Allen Barrett and parentheticallyspeakingin3d, 2012.