Stories and Poems Written from the Garden

Feathered Mentors

I love to listen to the birds.

Chirping in the trees.

Hopping from branch to branch.

Doing as they please.

In the early morning hours,

As the sun begins to rise,

I hear their cheerful songs,

And I begin to realize.

These birds are thrilled

To see the rising of the sun.

To feel its warmth.

To know another day has begun.

Their happiness can be found

In having a little nest.

Gossiping with their neighbors.

Enjoying life - at its best.

I wonder what they're saying?

Where the plumpest worms are found?

The choicest place to take a bath?

Or if that big fat cat has finally left their town?

Somehow I think they don't worry much

About mortgage rates or long-term debt.

Who has the newest car or the grandest nest?

Or if the war overseas - is finally over yet.

These feathered mentors

Are far wiser than us - I'd say.

For I don't see that we're so filled with joy

To see the beginning of another day.

Maybe they're just saying

That they're so truly blessed

To have been born a humble bird

That their life ... is by far the best.