Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Wind Swings the Bird Nest

A Poem For Mary Oliver/ Get Well Soon

This cold day wind swings
the bird nest pocketed in
a half cut maple limb. Two years
past, a storm of wind and
lightning made that limb into
a bridge for squirrels and a home
for birds.

The long fingered end barely
holds, branch to limb. We all try
for solid, I guess, industriously
building beliefs on poor 
assumptions, making faith 
on the branches we can see.

Lives outside know the
brutality of natures’ quick
decisions and give fear
a place. A nest is gathered
sticks planted deliberately  
in a lattice work of strength.

Shaken but holding in a bitter
wind and a balcony to see
the first unfurling of Spring
maple leaves. Maybe, I
can still learn to build beauty
and fear into a future I can hold.

Get well soon, Mary. You have inspired, encouraged and amazed me with your work.

Margot Storti-Marron

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