-This poem reflects on the return of birds as one of spring’s first living announcements, bringing song, motion, and a renewed sense of belonging to the waking world.
They come before the trees have filled,
before the garden lifts its green,
small wings arriving through the chill,
with all the old sky in their song.
A call from fence post, branch, and wire,
clear notes laid over thawing fields,
as if the air itself had found,
the missing part of what it was.
They do not question where to land,
or doubt the road that brought them here,
they enter morning like a truth,
the season has been waiting for.
And in their bright, persistent sound,
the earth seems less alone again,
as if each feathered, singing thing,
has carried spring back in its breast.