A Little Bird Sings Our Song

author’s note:

When a man hears angels singing
he hears angels singing.
            -- Mary Oliver


A LITTLE BIRD SINGS OUR SONG

Listen to that tree on the corner of the street.
Someone cries from the darkness of the leaves.

No, not someone—a bird

with a tongue like a whip

stings me with its deep-blue nocturnal blues.
But at least now I’m awake.  Now I can hear what I feel.

Our hidden friend
expresses so many emotions
within the limits of its simple melody.

But why would that little bird feel so haunted?

The bird echoes the song my spirit sings.
The bird echoes the song
the whole dizzy hungry human race sings.

I hear hurt.
I hear anger.
I hear the desire to love and be loved.
I hear hurt.
I hear anger.
I hear the desire to love and be loved.

I hear your ghost
echoing the purling waters of our Spring.
The ghost asks me:
Do you really want to remember?

And from within, a voice answers:
Did I live that life only to forget?

How could the bird possibly know
the sound of my memories?

I guess at a basic level
my life could sound the same as a bird’s.

The diva agrees
as she sings
in the tree at the corner of the street.

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© 2026, Michael R. Patton

Song of a Wheat Plant

author’s note:

If I thought my poems were only about my own life, I wouldn’t bother.


SONG OF A WHEAT PLANT

I can’t escape the scythe
I can not avoid the millstone

but I can sing
when the cut sears--sing
as I’m ground down fine:

sing not only of pain
but also of joy--
sing the song
of the happy sacrifice

because
without this crucifixion
from blade and stone
I would not rise.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
dream steps blog

Talk Sing Walk Dance

author's note:

"I think of myself more as a song and dance man, y'know."
                -- Bob Dylan


TALK SING WALK DANCE

In the experiment of human life
I have realized this paradox:

the common activity
of walking and talking
quickly exhausts me
whereas
the exertion
of song and dance
gives me new breath.

So I've decided to see
every step as a dance move
and hear every word as a song note--

yeah, I say:
we dance and sing and dance
as we talk and walk and talk.

As a result of enacting this mindset
my sails fill out full
even when I'm doing the mundane stuff
such as filing files or talking to a robot.

Nevertheless
my lazy head often forgets this tactic

but then remembers
when I begin to huff again
and my legs grow leaden.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
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