We, the Gravity Bound



Bird songs in spring,

a symphony of sound,

floating above we,

the gravity bound,

their songs subtly

sync with our lives,

we mow and plant,

we picnic and play,

and the birds have their say

all through the day,

so busy are we that their

songs fail to pierce

our fierce determination

to move, do and make,

yet, once in a while,

in the quiet of morn,

their songs will succeed

in supplanting our need

to achieve,

and in that moment,

we, the gravity bound,

will soar.



2 responses

  1. the birds pull us out of our locked-down status if we’re lucky, and these words remind me of those hopeful moments

  2. I’m enjoying the birds more than ever this year. It’s such a wonder how they make their complicated nests and navigate in their aerial world. Thanks for commenting. xoxo

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