Poetry
Two birds rubbing beaks together
For love and fallen seeds.
When everyone else gathers greed,
Gold cast shells
Money from cold.
Who really see’s?
A seer of the season
Between youth that saves a heart.
Only the birds rubbing beaks as we speak
Waiting for seeds to fall.
…And perhaps a view of a hatchling to inspirit
Innocence
That will teach further
Gentleness and kindness.
Two birds rubbing beaks together
For love and fallen seeds
When everyone else gathers greed
Gold cast shells
Money from cold.
Hands touch
A finger turns over the broken shell
Besides a seed casing.
A fleet of birds turns through the wooded path
Life is this instant
And exact.
+Francis A Willey
Feb 2011
+Birds Beaks+
2017