Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Birdsong

have you heard
the wood shrike sing,
perched atop a hollow
bamboo stump?
she empties her heart
with every call,
into the blue green
wilderness;
she doesn't stop
to look and listen,
to passers by,
nor angels up high;
she just shatters her heart
to fill the world each time,
with her love for life
and unfettered joy;
I wish to sing
like her some day,
baring my heart,
where only love holds sway,
more than seasons
will be born here then,
when silence and song
merge, in Zen.



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