Mining the Bright Birds

"

I strain towards the future

My eyes focusing 

on the far away

past the empty, quiet gray,

like looking for a hummingbird

in the snow.

I squint to see the fine

twig lines

across the white,

over the green,

in front of the sleeping brown

and spy her there,

a gemstone

stately in her stance

among the branches.

It is no effort, really,

this finding my way

through my days,

if I but gentle my 

busy self,

settle and sit

sip and settle

and welcome the daytime darkness

while mining the bright birds.

~~~~~~~~~

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More great poems over there.