I held off this poem every time the Rose-breasted Grosbeak sang through my window today because I was busy. The poem was worth the wait and a good reflection on my intent busyness. Enjoy!
What if We Spoke in Birdsong?
What if we spoke in birdsong
rolling notes
like the Rose-breasted Grosbeak?
What if our face shone
bright and orange
like the sunrise?
What if we grew lush green leaves
for every good deed?
or added a star
to our hair
for every kindness?
What if every day
we sang and smiled and grew
and said “thank you”?
