There is no greater purpose than
this right here,
this right now,
existing within a pocket
of warm air and birdsong,
so many little voices
singing their praises of life.
This moment when
the sun’s rosy kisses
make the horizon blush
contains within it
the answers that
men die for —
that men kill for.
If only we would
silence the madness
for a brief moment
and listen with our hearts
to the meaning of bird’s songs,
perhaps we might sense the
humbling magnitude
of life itself —
the gift that is every sunrise,
the gift that is every spring,
the gift that is this opportunity
to exist within such boundless beauty.
If only for a moment
we would choose
to set aside
our convictions,
our trauma,
our tragedy,
we might begin feeling
what inspires birds to sing,
we might comprehend
life without condition,
we might truly know
what it is to love.
Renee Novosel
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Copyright 2017