Empty

Three o’clock in the morning driving west down the turnpike

chasing down the moon, it’s not quite full

my mind is overflowing and I want to run on empty…

and hours later, for a moment,

it drains quick

and here I am now feeding birds at the Quabbin,

precious life eating from my palm.

Trust, a beautiful thing.

Faith, all too rare in people

but here the chickadee and the titmouse

the kinglet and the nuthatch

and all their songbird friends

find their faith rewarded,

and they eat their fill

and I am reminded once again

that I’m just one part of this great big universe

no better, no worse

than the songbirds, my friends

happy to ring in the new year with song and feast

and for a moment on this cold, crisp

New England New Year’s Day

I have again found peace

here, in the overgrown orchard

here, in the present

with no fear of tomorrow,

and no tears for yesterday.

songbird who sings

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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