i tune up my brain
each morn
in the chirps of birds
filling out blanks
as to what they are saying
a prayer?
reliving
yesterday's adventures?
the spot where they had hit gold
with worms?
from (or to) my slumberland
come poems
haikus, senryus
as i count syllables
each bird
tries out in its song
far and near
in so many ways
they chirp
plain notes,
broken notes
syncopated notes
improvised gems
some so skillful
i think
they are trumpeting
their way
up the evolution chain
to become finer
creatures than homo sapiens
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem