baby birds & a poem

 Look at this precious mourning dove who decided to lay two eggs in a pot on my deck. She seems very comfortable here as she is in a spot we pass regularly.

It makes me so happy that signs of Spring are everywhere in my yard and out in the marsh. It was a long winter!

 I've been working on writing, revising and gathering my poems for the upcoming poetry workshop I was invited to in June with Marge Piercy in Wellfleet and I am reminded of a poem I wrote a few years ago called "baby birds" that was published in "In Celebration of Mothers" an Anthology.

 I felt inspired to write the poem when my own 'baby birds'-- my son Nathan and my daughter Bella first went away to College.

                                                  baby birds

 by Linda Maria Steele

Today I watch over the birds in the marsh as if

they’re my own.

Give them wings,

so they can fly,

they say.

What they won’t say

is how much

You won’t want to let them go.

How much your soul will ache

for them to

return home.

What remains is the coming and going of the geese, spotted hawk

and egrets on the path.

Instead of worrying about my own

flying away safely,

I wonder if I’ll see the heron today instead.

Has the swan egg hatched?

Is that the song of a baby black bird?

I see the Osprey flying

over its nest.

When my children were young

I told them

Watch for cars.

Wash behind your ears.

Be home on time.

Eat right.

In their absence an emptiness fills my heart.

My love for them needs a place to land,

with an eagle eye I pay close attention

to the birds that welcome me to the marsh.

There’s relief in seeing

the heron return after

the long harsh winter.

Barely visible out on the edge of the water

I spot a newly born heron.

And I know all is well.