Common Grackle, Silent Spring?

Cinquain Sequence

Springtime--

decrepit snow

gives itself to rivulets,

seeks out low ground, puddles, pools. Soon

greening

will sprout,

wild, urgent--A

living omnipresence

calling out your name, first whispers,

then roars.

Will you

listen, dive in?

If so, then go outside,

let the pungent scent of Spring rub

on you.

Be like

water--rushing--

but know that where you are

going you already are--Here!

Presence!

Listen!

The Grackle gleeks

atop the grey Poplar--

there--its song, a spring choral, swells

of life!

And yet,

sadness rises

that wants to quell the rush

I feel when birds return, miracles

they are.

Will they

always find their

way back to where they need

to be when they need to be there?

Is here

a some-

where synchronized

to anymore or any

longer? Can the beauty of the

Grackle's

song sing

long enough 'til

those who need to hear it,

hear it, and learn that it has things

to tell

us that

we need to hear

before the spring we know

might come, arrives-- beseechingly--

Silent.

Jill MacCormack