Harbinger

Winter Birds

The winter birds are bold.

Showy baubles on the bony fingers
of February trees—
against a backdrop of bolts and bolts
of gray flannel sky.

I watch them as they watch the river.

Silver flash of fish
and the brief brightness of
unfiltered sun on the water
blind me into seeing this moment.

These eagles and herons

make themselves known now,
like the daffodil in Spring—
shocking beauty in the bleak,
a harbinger of awakenings.

--Meagan Elliot

I wrote this poem several years ago, inspired by what I see on my drive home from work.  Today is February 1st and I can feel things a'changin'.  Yesterday, the air smelled like Spring, like life.  I'm seeing the Winter Birds again.  My tulip bulbs are nosing up through the dirt.  The chickens seem perkier and expectant.  Pretty soon, I'll hear the varied thrush's referee whistle in the morning, smell the skunk cabbage, and hear the year's first frog.  These are exciting times!

I've been in a very mellow place over the last month.  Doing what needs to be done, but then taking much repose.  Dreaming.  Planning for Spring and Summer.  Imagining what I want my life to look like and making an effort every day to live that.  I am ready for change.  I am ready for awakenings.

Are you?