Feathered Friends

Outside my window, the birds take flight,

a flurry of feathers in the morning light.

They dart to the feeder, a chaos, a song,

reminding me where my thoughts don’t belong.

Their small bodies flit, a dance of delight,

while I sit in silence, tangled in night.

A moment of solace in the wildness they share,

a distraction from stillness, from heavy despair.

Their rituals play out in predictable ways,

like seasons repeating, like the sun’s warm rays.

They come for the seeds, the laughter in flight,

while I sit in wonder, lost in their light.