IF I WERE A BIRD . . .

If I were a bird

 I’d be a mockingbird.

They perch atop the tallest tree

and sing their little heart out.

Not their own song,

but every other birds’ song.

This year, some mockingbirds built a nest

right above my chair on the deck. 

I felt so honored that they’d chosen

(photo from last Fall)

the overhead Kousa dogwood limb,

like they trust me. 

I could see the Mother bird feeding

her little birds, but they never cheeped,

so no predators would attack.

Soon they all left.

Still, it seemed like a good omen to me.

And that’s when my New Song started . . .

I had an incident of turmoil

and I had to get it out of my system

 It made me remember 

In my first creative writing class at 37,

I tried to write like Flannery O’Connor,

I was haunted by her style

by her short stories.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find

in particular, a line in which The Misfit said,

“I wisht I could’ve been there.”

This is the first verse.

I Wish I Could’ve Been There

Joseph built a table

Mary baked some bread,

I wish I could’ve been there

To hear what Jesus said.

I heard Leonard Cohen on PBS, recently

and I’d never heard him before,

And there it was . . .a style,

a way to put it all together.

So, I started composing the music

on the piano keyboard,

finding the right rhythm, the right tempo,

putting all those elements together.

It’s hard work, 

like those mockingbirds,

flying back and forth, back and forth

with stick after stick after stick.

I am building my song

with my note

 after note

  after note.

I am the mockingbird,

putting in an Allelulia or two,

like Leonard Cohen.

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Allelulia . . . Allelulia.

I love it so much I’ve practiced up

so I can play the chords

on the Baby Martin guitar

I bought myself for Christmas.

Allelulia . . . Allelulia.

stay tuned . . .

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