In the garden
he sits
and contemplates
a world that exists
in song
that is ours
to belong
In the garden
he sits
and contemplates
a world that exists
in song
that is ours
to belong
In the garden pristine
to wonder, to dream.
With expectations high;
they take off and fly,
returning once again
to where they remain.
with your orange beak
what will you speak
in the garden green
your feathers pristine
moving around
up and down on the ground
bring about a shape
part of the landscape
flying away
watch him go today
Let the leaves gather in the garden
the falling snow, surround the home.
May peace bring solitude,
as one contemplates the beginning without an end.
Share happy moments with all those gathered,
the light of which shines down.
On a grey day the rays of sunshine break the mundane,
leaving trails behind, these are the paths we choose to follow.
Robin in the garden
on top of the tree
looking down at me
singing his song
that little redbreast
all day long