Birdhouse of My Soul

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These midnight birds at my window,

always cooing while I try to sleep.

Tap-tap of their fluttering flashes by,

rustling the silence I am trying to keep.

 

I am a grown man learned to handle,

the many complex things in my time.

Yet here in bed, restlessly disarmed,

I am the victim of a flocking crime.

 

I can’t bear the sound of noisy traffic

driving through the tunnel of my mind.

Tomorrow I shall wake before they do,

to see cause for the commotion I find.

 

Through the window I sit beside them,

just before the midnight rooster’s call.

Eyes are closed in wings of their dreams,

snuggled close they find warmth for all.

 

The waking babies are scooting closer,

to the beating breast of their momma.

Little mouths are opening in hunger,

awakening weary eyes of their papa.

 

Wobbling to his feet, stretching his wings,

taking off with a thrust, in rush and return,

his beak is abundant of wiggling food,

that the young ones so desperately yearn.

 

So happy he is, to care for his babies,

he hops around and Coos like a king.

And I smile wide in that quiet moment,

As my compassion starts expanding.

 

Inner harmony was born to give away,

all my knowledge for a golden dimple,

of how being present in understanding,

bears nature’s calling, loving and simple.

 

I offered myself to their window view

And found myself lost in their way.

As their sounds of cooing and tapping,

ushered in the greatness of each day.

 

Opening to the natural call of my soul,

offered a space where they can freely fly.

In the revealing, of their giving wings,

I let them quietly become my lullaby.

 

~ jeffrey vionito

 

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