The trail feels steep today and leads me
to an opening among pine and madrone,
a vantage point above the green valley 
clothed in spring splendor and cradling 
the town that is becoming my home.

Purple Finch and Nashville Warbler 
trade gentle notes upon the breeze, 
back and forth, a call and response,
their lively voices drenched in delight,
never tiring of this celebration of living.

I pause to allow my breathing to still 
enough so I might receive a message
birds seem singularly able to bestow,
like blessings drifting down in consecration,
alighting on the still restless places in my soul.

Mark Lloyd Richardson
May 2024