Little Bird

Little bird, little bird
share with me your secrets,
sing to me the words you know
of dawn and air
and the seeds in their pods.

Show me the joy you find
in gathering -
that I may feel it too -
and the peace you hold
in twilight
when winds have died
and the nest is home.

For I am building my nest too.
The green branches of new thought
still smell of forest and rain.
I line it with my feathers
to make it soft from the harsh day
and rest before
a new song must be sung.