THE MORNING CONDUCTOR
said the silent statement from a sun speaking its early light from the east
as we lay in bed.
After I read More Mary Oliver to Michael.
Magnificently timed in its courageous attempt
to rise and interrupt the strongest of a dark grey cloud cover.
Competitive between them.
Who would win the struggle?
When the sun speaks, you can feel its force;
This energy can force a person to shed their clothes
From the heat.
This is power.
This is strength.
The windiest day has strength too, but it can’t make you take your clothes off.
Then the birds.
First it was the chirp chirp of a bird I am embarrassed not to recognize.
After all this is a bird that is my daily morning companion
And I was unsure of its name.
Oh well, I shall just bathe in its sound,
in the repetition and ability to show up in my morning wake up.
Then it was the crow squawking,
standing on its feet like Stalin would
in the winter stripped maple tree in the front yard.
WAKE UP, sleepiest of heads.
He was demanding in his commands.
But we did not obey.
Then the Geese.
Those screaming winged birds,
with the tribal barking sounds of flying dogs
whizzing by like a carnival coming to a small town with all of their noise.
I wait patiently, expectantly, for the next sounds.
No. Like trying to find a heart rock, Cardinals never sound on demand.
Only when you are not looking and listening.
That is their surprise.
Their specialty in my heart.
Nancy told Melissa when she was a child
that the birds sang to help the rise the sun.
Today it felt like the other way around.
The Sun was The Conductor.
Rising and organizing the tweets, the coos, the squawks, the whistles.
One after another.
For the waiting ears of two lovers in bed
on a lazy Saturday morning
whether to move or to continue just being.
Listening to the symphony
outside their window
with the delicate background noise
of their shared breath
under the sheets.