Poetry by Jon Raimon
Waking to bird talk,
I wonder.
Did they wing into
my dreams?
Gather twigs and spring fluff to nest in
my wishes?
I stumble up, feel the fool,
yet sense they are on my side
with hoots and jests
coos and kindness.
They gossip and advise,
each note thrilled with care.
Thank you for swooping
into my hopes.
Know I will, clumsy and earthbound
as I am, try to always listen to
your love calls and unexpected tittering,
your joyous racket and grand laments.
Listen skywards, as you warble your way
into daymares and night longings
a feather touch so light we don’t even know how it heals
our wounds, soothes our grief
a clarion caw, warnings to feel, to
protect these skylands we breathe in
together,
a revelry we must heed and celebrate.
Jon Raimon teaches writing in Ithaca, New York. He writes along with his students, focusing on poetry and short fiction. His inspirations include his children and students, everything within, and all kinds of rocks.
