Poems From The Porch
Peep, peep. Here you are, little hummingbird.
Crunch, crunch—the cat snacking at the pan behind me.
Tweet, whistle—other birds whom I’ve yet to identify.
Caw and bark—a crow and a dog.
A lady is rolling in her trash can from the road,
and a car drives by.
All of this is going on while the fans are whirring above me,
and the insects are humming, buzzing, and clicking.
Now a plane flies over,
and it makes me giggle because the air is so rich with sound this morning.
I hear my husband close the door to the shed
and later, the back door to our house.
The wind chime sounds.
I sense that the flowers and trees and sky are contributing their vibrations, too,
and Mother Earth is providing her pulse as the bass drum.
One bird is crooning a long melody that stands out from all the rest.
She is clearly a songbird.
Someone knows what she is communicating,
but all I hear is a melody.
I wonder what she hears when I sing.
I ask for a song from the Author of all tunes and the Gifter of my life
because I want to join the serenade.
A refrain effortlessly arises,
so I walk out to stand in the soft, wet grass to sing it to the birds,
greeting a cat along the way.
As I offer my voice, my heart swells a soul-smile,
“You are so beautiful to me.
You are so beautiful to me.
You’re everything I hoped for.
You’re everything I need.
You are so beautiful to me.”