Ospreys and vultures are all part of the culture
in the peaceful confines of my yard.
When I'm feeling low, I know just where to go,
to the quiet repose of the yard.
There's a graceful Blue Heron, in my piece of Heaven
in the stream that defines the backyard.
He fishes at will, using just his sharp bill
like a spear as he stabs at them hard.
I sit with the birds, not a harsh word is heard,
just whistles and peeps and the wind.
They don't care if I cry or just sit and sigh
they've forgiven me all of my sins.
My social network, each have a quirk,
be it feather, scale, fur, shell or fin.
In the morning or eve, I can laugh, sing or grieve,
no matter, I'll still fit right in.
Blue Jays have nested, time and care they've invested
fighting crows off, protecting their eggs.
Turtles are sunning, I can hear the geese coming,
like a rowdy teen party with kegs!
Tiny Bullet the Bunny, shoots by -very funny
as he tries out his brand new fast legs.
Like a step back in time, and the words that I rhyme
of a simpler life, this scene begs.
I'll always advise... "just go outside",
when your feeling a touch of the blues.
Some they will drink, in the depths they still sink,
and some buy a new pair of shoes.
Still others deny, while their whole life goes by,
wasting time having a snooze.
For me its the trees, flowers and bees,
bugs, frogs and snakes are my muse.
If you're feeling forlorn, take the bull by the horns
and go visit the chattering throng.
Investigate spaces; dark, cool, shady places
where humans don't seem to belong.
Follow the sounds, put your phone down!
You'll discover the Chickadee's song.
And whatever you do, be apart of the "crew".
Your Spirit will lift before long.
.
