The nervous twitching of the birds

Heads cocking and bobbing

Eyes scanning

Feathers ruffling

With beaks darting to inspect and clean

You throw food and they fly away 

Only to return with great caution

To get their free meal—

Such anxiety and suspicion is

Almost human 

You thrust a spear into time

But like water time absorbs the thrust

The moment of now becomes past

In the river of history

Everything enters but nothing comes out

Gliding to an obscure ocean

Where only memory can prevail

You walk the hills

Your steps heading

To the high mountains

The country of snow

Where eagles glide overhead

And ice clings to the trees

Where is the red bird?

Your astonishment, your joy?

You hear its song

But it’s hidden in the treetops

Shielded by clouds—

You wait the long day

For a glimpse

But are kept waiting in hope