…over the rainbow

                                                                                                    

 

A week ago I put up some bird feeders in my front yard; my dad adored birds.  I want to be closer to him so I find myself doing things he did, things that brought him joy.  I remember going to his house and he’d boast about his bird garden as we sat in  his living room watching them out the window.   They were those kind of moments where you didn’t have to fill up the space with words; moments that were whole and pure and made you feel ‘connected’.  Since putting up my own bird feeders I’ve made it a daily task to sit out on my front porch with my coffee and watch them.  Tiny little yellow finches perch themselves just right as they pull the thistle from the feeder.  Just a short distance away a cardinal eats his safflower seed and pretends not to notice he’s not the only feathered friend in the tree.  I watch them and a sense of peace comes over me.  Birds have no motives, no hidden agenda, no worries other than eating, finding shelter, and tending to their young.  Their lives are repetitive in nature and repetition gives them a sense of security.  If something frightens them or they sense danger they fly to a place high enough to keep them safe.  They sit atop houses and wires watching the world go by and never give much thought to the reasons the world is the way it is.  They fly south when the weather turns cold because they don’t like cold and they have a built-in transportation system.  They take baths in puddles and poop wherever they please because the only thing they  have to please, is themselves.  They mate for security not love and they protect their young until they feel the  young are old enough to protect themselves.  As they kick the chicks from the nest it’s an act of love not of selfishness and as they watch them learning to fly they cheer from a branch near by.  They live their life day by day never reaching to grasp anything more than what’s in front of them.  Life is easier that way and much less complicated.

Over the rainbow, way up high, I long to be a bird spreading my wings to fly.  I’d fly closer to the heavens to catch a glimpse of where my father might be; And when I knew he was safe I’d come back to this place that anchors me.

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