Primordial Beaks Before Our Daybreak
The songbirds hop among the flowers, upon
The ground, and on the branches of the trees
And branchings of the roses. In dark dawn
They wake to turn their heads and search through breeze
And whispering sunrise for their early songs—
And blankness is transformed by notes and light.
They turn and turn their heads and each one longs
For inspiration for its swooping flight
And melody. Birds turn and turn their eyes
And sing and sing while searching for a glint
Of memory for their ancient past. Each flies
In search of reptile history, just a hint
Perhaps of when as dinosaurs they ran
And soared above a planet lacking man.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Dec 13, 2021 | BI, DI, JU |