Love...For The Birds Poem by O.S. Brooks

For the birds...
This life
I know
much about the stirrings
of love, hate, and happiness
I saw
a crooked little thing
an injured bird
sing
so bright
one frost laiden morning
While trying
to please a blue jay
The robin
injured in spirit
sang until
it lost it's voice

The blue jay
ignoring the robin
finished
swiping
the ground
of it's seeds
flew away

And this...
is my unusual thought on love

Let it be for the birds
Whom
neither
whether
dead
nor alive
commit such sins
as we try

And for the wind
which doesn't care
if it is admired
It simply
does it's job
what ever
the description may be

This I tried to practice in my own life
Loving another with out wanting anything in return

And I blew kisses in her direction
And I smothered her
so much I went crazy
And she left my side
for another

I went insane
trying to put my finger
on what happened

Then
the blue jay
returned
to the singing bird
and rubbed against it
with desire
the
kind
i
used
to
know

I took this as a sign
called my distant lover
let the phone ring
till she called back

She said
she was thinking about me
after watching something wonderful
outside her window

We met
under the old oak
where the birds meet
gather seeds
and laugh at us

I asked her
what she thought of love
She pointed
to the blue jay
told me her thoughts
She said
everyday
the blue jay returned
home
to a half-baked nest
full of baby birds
abandoned
by their robin mother
She said
to her
that was
true love

And that she tried to practice it in her life and relationships
She said
she loves someone
even when it hurts
Even when things
start falling apart
She'd love
leave
and come back round

As if
like the birds
she was vested in something special
Something
beyond the scope of spoken words

We went insane
trying
to please one other
to keep
it interesting
at least a bit conversational
and failed before God
a broken promise
a
three strand cord
left
in pieces
along the interstate