The wrens returned again this spring
to nest within the wooden winter feeder
swinging from the Maple’s limb impossibly
minute the opening serves them now
for seasons beyond memory smaller
than some snowflakes I have seen they
stand their ground against all threats
sparrow blackbird prowling tabby cat
and wake us every morning to the music
of their song a sort of anguished challenge
hurled at dawn that reaffirms their lives
confirming that against all odds
they still survive
I think of them as our wrens the same
as last year coming home again and yet
the likelihood is generations of them
lived and died perhaps no lineage at all connects
them year to year just some coincidental
happening attracts a mating pair to our yard
our feeder convenient to their need
and I suspect that we are not unlike them
in our journey through the centuries we come
and go and pass this way or that and hurl from
time to time the fact that are here at all at
some deaf dawn but in the grander plan
mattering not one bit less then wren and song
not one bit more than here and gone.
– Susan A. Katz
This is so beautiful.