INVITATION by Mary Oliver
Oh do you have time
to linger
for just a little while
out of your busy
for the goldfinches
that have gathered
in a field of thistles
for a musical battle,
to see who can sing
the highest note,
or the lowest,
or the most expressive of mirth,
or the most tender?
Their strong, blunt beaks
drink the air
as they strive
melodiously
not for your sake
and not for mine
and not for the sake of winning
but for sheer delight and gratitude –
believe us, they say,
it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in the broken world.
I beg of you,
do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.
Mary Oliver
The words in this poem are almost my exact thoughts when I'm lying in my bed between sleep and waking listening to the birds singing out my window. Some mornings there isn't a peep from a bird but on those glorious mornings when the birds wake me with their chorus of calls and songs of joy. I will listen for the different tunes my own heart filling with joy.
Early this month we had rain for the first two weeks with some heavy downpours, the birds would gather at one of the feeders under the covered porch several perching on the windchimes and the table waiting to take their turn at the feeder or perhaps just being social while getting out of the rain. They sing while they wait out the rain. I often wonder are they calling other birds to let them know it's dry spot out of the rain with plenty to eat.
I am fortunate to have this almost daily gift of birdsong and happy to say it's not only in the early morning that the birds come and sing. For the past few weeks they have been coming in the late afternoon and early evening after the sun goes down filling the air with song.
