She paid more attention to bird song this week.
She heard it at six am and how it had changed by nine.
She heard it in the car park after work, she heard it in the trees outside.
She heard it at night when she was running a bath.
She does not know which birds are the ones singing;
she is simply glad they sing.
Each time it catches her by surprise, isolates her in time
and she takes it as a sign.
A sign some things do stay the same
in a world which is ever-changing;
a sea teeming with kaleidoscopic faces.
The birds will always sing
no matter where she goes
and no matter what she finds there.
Whether that be a dead end,
an unlocked door or a secret garden.
Even if her pockets turn inside out
or line themselves with gold,
she will listen to the bird song
above it all.
These are the songs she listens to on repeat
and wishes she could buy the original sheet music;
until she realises knowing where it came from
wouldn’t make it magic anymore.
Just like how knowing all of the answers
isn’t the way to move forward.
There is magic in the mystery and the simplicity
of listening and learning,
without always knowing
why you are here.
© Kristiana Reed 2019
