The birds sing their songs, audience be damned. Once born, they peep. Then stumble through notes, trying to emulate their kin Though their voice remains unique. On rising, they stretch and screech. Unafraid of being a nuisance, doing what they are designed to do Even while many hardly understand their speech. Oblivious to praise, they test their voice. Singing for singings sake, while other creatures go about their day They chirp, as if there is no choice. The birds sing their songs, and so shall I.
I'm Niquelle, part-time traveler, full-time nature lover. I find joy in sharing about my adventures, big and small, as I wander around wonderland. In addition to essays and poems, I share weekly reflections with more details of my whereabouts and some recommendations, magical moments and encounters, current reads, and more. I hope some of my work inspires you to wander & wonder too! ✨
May we sing out loud!
Joined in grief cry, in outcry.
May we sing in hope.
love this Niquelle & love birds <3 have you heard Aldous Harding's song - what if birds aren't singing, they're screaming? sort of adjacent to this lovely poem, at least it is what popped into my head after reading.. :)