It does not necessarily love me
but it comes every morning.
I await its coming,
anticipating its appearance outside my
window,
listening for my call so that it can answer…
taking my words and my song
and weaving into it the words and the song
it has in its heart for that day,
this day…
every morning a new song -
The Mockingbird does not love me
yet it comes faithfully…
it has to… it knows no other life
and I wait,
every morning
because I do so love the Mockingbird
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Maybe it returns for the music you give it and probably loves you for it 10 with nature blend Chris