Three Storytellers

 

He hears his name in robin’s songs,

The cadence calls him from the scrub.

He answers in his shaky voice:

They understand but don’t respond.

 

She sees the heron spell her name

In semaphore with arching wings.

She signals back, she jumps and flaps,

They catch her drift, but on they pass.

 

I see the clouds, I hear the trees,

I feel the rumbling through my feet.

The world is here, and I am here,

With robins, herons, clouds and breeze.

 

They speak to us, they know our names,

And nothing here will ever change.

 

 

Advertisements

2 Comments to “Three Storytellers”

  1. What a lovely poem!

  2. I really like the sentiment in this piece — our relation to the wild around us. Very much my own view as well ~peace, Jason

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: