From afar

I think most of the birds eating seed under the crab apple are juncos. I don't quite know. The cardinal is unmistakable. I wish my beloved had spread the seed closer to the house. But instead he had the birds in mind... not me.

It is safer

To spread seed

Out under the crab apple,

Next to the pile

Of pulled grape vine.

I see the mass of birds

From afar.

They eat seed in the snow.

The only one with a name tag

Is Mr. Cardinal,

So red against the white.

Safe stop

Watching the birds this morning. The juncos. The sparrows. The pair of cardinals. I also consider a growing practice of clients. Sometimes they know where the seed is spread. Sometimes it takes a lot of pecking. They flock like birds. Sometimes one at a time. Sometimes in pairs. Sometimes more.

They flock

Like juncos

Like sparrows

Even like the pair of cardinals

(can a pair flock?)

Sometimes they know

Where the seed is spread

Sometimes it takes a lot of pecking.

They flock like birds.

I spread the seed,

Pay attention in every way

I can,

Move oh so carefully

So they don’t take flight.

Over time

With care

They become accustomed

To me.

They know I have seeds.

They know this

Is a safe stop

Along the way.

So much promise

I see bee balm next to thistles.  My backyard is not exactly orderly.  Neither, I think, is the Kingdom in which we live.  I am grateful to Robin Currie for her sermon yesterday on the Sower and the Seed.

Rain is promised

For this week

Yet sun still appears

In patches

For short moments

Then disappears

So the promise

May be fulfilled.

I understand

The corn grows higher

This year

In the fields

Of southern Illinois.

My backyard entertains

Bee balm

Next to thistles

So many seeds sown

So much growth

So much rain

So much sun

So much promise.