.
A nightingale
fell from the sky
and landed
at my feet.
I gave her love,
all that I had,
and nursed her
back to health.
She’s taken wing,
her freedom found
in the realm
of endless skies.
At rising moon
she comes to me,
her heartfelt songs
are songs of love.
.
In the forest monastery where I used to live there was a nightingale who would start singing very early in the morning. He would start with one short tune and then compose innumerable variations on it. I have never heard such a musical bird!
That sounds absolutely fascinating. We have a cabin on Birch Island. Each morning the first sounds we hear are the birds. Jays are the bossy, noisy ones, but we also have doves, chickadees, golden eagles, red hawks and others we hear but haven’t seen yet. I would love to hear a nightingale.
Namaste,
Dennis
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Dennis, I haven’t commented recently but, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying your gifted writing ! I can’t type as a regular person, I use a screen keyboard and, with my mouse click on each letter– it sometimes is extremely tiresome but, believe me, I love your blogs & pray for you and your friends ~everyday ! Thank you for a sensitive piece offering in this beautiful poem. I love birds.
Dennis Cardiff: Poems and Prose 
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