I remember summer days
when birds crowded the feeder
and more walked below
pecking at fallen seeds.
Somewhere a preacher asks
of those listening with ears to hear
to draw the meaning of scripture
out of the mythical realm
and into daily experience.
Do the birds hear the same words?
The secret given to us at dawn,
does it still remain quiet and secure
after we have given it away so many times?
Though the words of the questions
remain the same, they can be rearranged
in infinite ways to provide the answer
to the one question always being asked:
Will the birds feed today?
A Thread You Follow 