Robin Poem by David Taylor

The robin sits and waits
curiosity upon the gate
(worms wriggle; earth shakes)
gardener rests; contemplates

how do you think the flowers know
as they blossom up they grow
(roots reach; deep below)
the bees from flower to flower go

and the sun and the rain
provide all that we need each day
(and how we're apt to complain
no matter what the seasons gave)

the robin knows, it's natural
that the earth provides
(worms shake; earth wriggles)
as his beak a dinner makes

for the gardener roots and fruits
are his life and desire
(and how we're apt to store
in case we just might need more)

the robin's flight is delight
and the gardener wonders, if he might
(deep below; roots reach)
find the meaning in sun's light.