Bluejays

Busy bluejays fly from tree to tree,

Straight and purposeful as arrows

As if knowing where they’re going,

Knowing the snow is coming,

Choosing to stay;

Choosing to be free;

Struggling, hoping

Toward the coming spring

When life will be renewing,

Oblivious to our struggling

To have more than the bluejay has.

Cy, Nov. 11, 2008

dreams
The new moon, a canoe-like sliver,
In an inky, black, celestial river,
Framed by pine trees tall
Like a pair of sentinels.
An arrow shattering the oaken pew back;
Wolves, sleek and glistening black,
Running through the night;
I, breathless, wait for morning light.


Cy, 2005?

Morning Geese

What a beautiful sight
As the geese flash white
In the morning light
As they take flight
With my heart so light
'Cause God's got it just so right.

Cy, 2002

STARLINGS

The starlings are squealing
Just before the storm
Like little stuck pigs:
Excited to eat Before the rains wash
Their food away.

Cy, 2001

The evening breeze,
The cackling of the geese,
The singing of the crickets,
The rustling of the poplar leaves,
The roar of the traffic,
What an aberration!
Oh! How it disturbs my spirit!
Like the roar of violent people,
Disturbing the peace of my dreams.

Cy, Sept. 24, 2001