The birds are singing. Weeks too soon.
For them, is climate change a boon?
Won’t they need bugs or seeds to eat?
The ecosystems once were neat
and dovetailed nicely, well-designed.
But now look, Nature is inclined
toward unpredictability.
What’s missing is the harmony.
Is what’s to come catastrophe?
What grief. Unless, at last, we see
what matters. It’s not wealth from oil,
or chemicals to bathe the soil,
or plastics, or a bunch of stuff.
Isn’t simpler good enough?
A modest life? No life of greed
can ever give us what we need.
We need each other. Nature, too.
As for the rest, we can eschew
the rat-race and the monkey mind.
And inward turn – and out – and find:
contentment is within our power
if we can live a little slower,
if we can slip our manic tethers
and live with glad unruffled feathers.
The birds are wise: they sweetly sing
that money isn’t everything.
Photo: A mix of birds gathered around a snow-covered bird feeder on a winter day; Martha Allen, Cornell Lab of Ornithology
Nice photo and poem, thanks for sharing.
Well said.
Oh that is lovely, and so true. Thank you!
Most people hear birds chirping and think “oh, how pleasant!” And go about their day.
Some people get triggered and write a poem.