Tomorrow Look for Litany

 

Quiet nature

And it’s not

It’s noisy—screeching, scratching,

Tearing, flapping, crying out

In pain or loss or delight

 

It’s an uneven, all-textured

Unbalanced affair

Not all spheres are smooth in space,

Not every nest has beauty

 

There are scars and broken limbs

That bespeak mortality

But could we have it any other way

 

There is math in the nautilus

And harmony when mourning doves

Begin the day in need

Conversing with each other:

 

Come, join me

In this tree, set with me

 

C L Couch