outside the kitchen door a few broken egg shells on the floor
I cup them in my hand
look up at the mud nest hugging the wall
baby swallows have emerged
parents zoom in and out in and out in and out.
back in July they turned up and began the renovation
a bit early I thought
but one tiny dob of mud at a time they added to the nest wall.
life it’s a miracle
these small soft shells held the future of beak eyes wings feathers
of migration nest building food gathering,
this small soft shell held a vulnerable being not much larger than a walnut
made of soft bones and the promise of flight.
on ground level skinks are leaving their hidey holes and lying about in the Sun
chasing each other in a never ending flash of bronze scales .
baby wallabies and baby kangaroos bounce past gazing out from their pockets
the tribe growing bigger since The Fire reduced their numbers.
trees ignited by that fire now densely packed coppices
push against gravity to reach the Sun, to seed and bear fruit.
spring bounces along with verve and commitment in The Forest.
and beyond that fear is welded in place
and coercion is perfectly justified.
one has to inquire
since when did sickness become a crime?
…. … …. …
time to be attentive
to remember who we are.
Rise and shine
stretch into tomorrow with open heart and mind
make the world a brighter place
make it happen