Out of Tune

I can only admire what I hear from the warbling bird
Outside my bay window, as far as I can understand
It’s grateful to be alive to, with wing swoop, lithely land
Atop a branch and preach simplicity to our absurd.

Its instincts out-trill the hard hammers of our cruel night past,
With rich melody, no guilt, it anoints break of new day
Better than anything tired minds could possibly say
About our tainted world and how it can possibly last.

Bird, you’ve got it in you to really tilt head back and sing
A melody of just your being, in your brave beak you keep
Life’s meaning to its word, while we can only roll out of sleep,
Say much of what we know now but not tell you anything.

***

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Examined Life Journal, Evening Street Review and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Leading Edge, Poetry East and Midwest Quarterly.