He, focused on the goal, just sits and waits
The gold-bird at my window, chirping light,
He’s first in line, first at the starting gate,
And now that I’m awakened, he’ll be right.
Each time I catch his wispy wings in flight
I wonder if he’s visited before,
Or offspring sprung returning to my light,
It matters not to me, for I’m in awe.
He and his cousins, busy at their chores,
Reminding to refill the feeder trays,
Yet once I do, the seed is fast devoured,
Still, I enjoy the endless games we play.
My grandson’s thought: “These finches are our pets!”
They flutter free for me, their grateful guest.
Day Thirteen: Moment & Motion
“Our lives are made up of big events and tiny moments. Ultimately, life is fleeting, and oftentimes it’s these small moments, this motion, that we love to document.”