12 August – Songbird apprentice

I will sit at the foot of the old ash tree
and open my heart to the sound
of the Song Thrush weaving its melody –
sweet, lilting and loud.
Each year that passes, I will hope to hear
how it lengthens its narrative of notes,
telling new tales of winter survived,
stretching cadences like long summer days.
Perhaps I too will learn his craft,
building my stories year by year.
Perhaps I too will find fresh notes
for others to sit and hear.