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November 30, 2011

A flock of bluebirds showed themselves
so pretty so blue so compact
flitting around a small bare tree
in the woods where we, my dogs and I, 
much less gracefully
much more crashingly.
As always my heart lifted at least
as high as the small bare tree
where they gathered
some kind of party underway.
I’d chosen that path wondering 
if it would lead away from some
other grand sighting of
pileated woodpecker
great blue heron
barred owl.
I smiled as we jingled and stomped off
thinking how little control we have
over how when and where
we’re given these surprise packages.
It really doesn’t matter which path I take
as long as I keep my eyes open.

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