I hear birds singing in an acorn tree
Like a chorus in a church
While acorns drop to the ground,
Like paratroopers falling from planes
Into the arms and hands of
Hungry squirrels on the ground.
And I wonder if the ants want some
Of the leftover acorn crumbs.
And I wonder why those birds have
Chosen that acorn tree to sing in.
Do they have an affinity with acorns
Or was it just a random choice?
And I think to myself how much
I missed when I didn’t pay as much
Attention to the goings on of nature.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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