In search of story

March 14.23: Coping, but barely


In robinspeak: Look at me!

I call from minaret of tree!

Look up! I cannot wait all day

to sing my song and say my say!

Raise your eyes and tilt your head!

You’ve met your feet — look up instead!

The sky is grey and winter lingers;

wrap up tight and mitten your fingers,

or be like me and weather the weathers

by bellowing full your winter feathers.

Rise above! Stretch out your wings!

You humans are such starchy things!

I grant there’s good stuff in the dirt,

but too much looking down can hurt.

Look up and see the endless skies —

your spirit needs the exercise!

What risk to you, oh, you clay-bound,

when both your feet stay on the ground?

Dare to snub the daily strife

and defy the gravity of life!


Yes, dear reader, that’s what the robin said. I heard it myself.


12 thoughts on “March 14.23: Coping, but barely

  1. You have a very wise Robin there Maureen. Haven’t seen any robins here yet, but I keep looking. There’s something so special about seeing that first Robin. It’s like opening that first package on Christmas morning! Wonderful poem….exactly what a Robin would tell us.

    Still snowing here and windy, but so far not as bad as forecast.

    Enjoy today as you “look up and see the endless skies”.

    • Thanks, Ginger! The sun is trying so hard to shine today but it doesn’t seem to have much strength; winter is fighting hard to hold on. But over the last week or so we’ve had the return of birdsong, and so I look up and listen. I miss that in the winter.

  2. Would that we could easily follow his advice, but we are stuck My luck, I’ll look up and trip over a crack in the pavement. I do love how the birds seek out the highest twig of a branch to perch on.

  3. That’s a robin I’d want as a friend. I was just reading earlier that folklore says if they sing from a tree it’s a sign of good weather, compared to if they sing from a thicket.

    • That’s interesting. I wonder if that is related to that thing about the bugs’ flying lower so the birds fly lower before a storm. No clue if that’s right, but I can say absolutely that folklore does not apply in Indiana!

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