Birds do not deceive: They hungrily fly
from limbs to feeders and back until, God-
knows-why, they glide sunward and bank past trees
to some interesting morsel or perch out of sight.
Birds sing. Even hidden, they hide nothing
except, perhaps, their death. No agendas.
Birds live in the open. We live in homes.
We have agendas. You wonder if this
is really me, and I wonder the same
of you: We want to see each other fly.
I ask, “Where are you staying?” and hope you
will say, “Come see.” Fly slowly if you do.
And please let me see your face when you sing.

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Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God (Matthew 5:8).

Image: Public domain photo of a European Robin by Chris Smith on Unsplash.