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Morning Moon - 16. Little Robin

Hello, little Robin!

Are you hiding from the pouring rain or

Some unnameable fear that circles in your brain? I’ll keep you company, why don’t you fly in?

I must confess that I’m hiding from something as well,

But I don’t know what it is.

 

Here, have a cup of leche and a slice of tres leches.

I’ve heard your beautiful song every morning

And your voice never fails to lift the clouds.

But do you fear yourself little Robin,

Tremble at the fragile drumming of your heart?

Does your voice waiver in moments so small that you’ve long forgot?

 

Oh, little Robin I was hoping you’d know

Why as the day dies I cry and when spring

Dances across the babbling brooks a strange sadness

Makes the tulips sigh with the aching sweetness of the fleet footed fox.

Does it sadden you to see the lavender of night?

 

I can’t say I know the answer my friend.

But have you ever stopped your singing,

To see if the melody of the day would continue to hum?

Will your robin friends chatter your name

Or will the song of life carry on?

 

What could I do little Robin?

A human without a song.

Is there a way to learn the harmonies of time

Or play along to the symphony of love?

I must know! For I have little time to spare, to run.

 

But please don’t mind me little Robin,

Would you like seconds or another cup?

I have been sputtering words

And I haven’t listened to your twittering thoughts.

Will you remember me and this conversation when you’ve flown far from this house?

 

Tell me, if you please,

Whether the sun greets you everyday.

Will it miss the way your feathers shimmer

Or will it hardly remember their gleam?

What fate awaits those of us without wings?

 

I will admit that my family will lament

But a day in a million silent moons.

My entire being will be placed in the coffin

Of a single day on a calendar they never use.

What lies beyond the horizon of the approaching new moon?

 

Ah, but you must go I know.

Farewell and fly safely little Robin.

I shall remember the way your wings beat fondly.

Worry not of all the things I’ve told

For one with such beauty will never grow old in the mind of the world.

Copyright © 2018 Juan Manuel Sandoval; All Rights Reserved.
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