A Revelation, Tucked in a Box Left on the Herbert Davies Memorial Bridge: Day Seven

This post is part of the Secret Messages Project.  Every day for thirty days, I’ll leave my words in places where they might be found — or might never be found at all.  I hope you’ll join me. 


The mockingbird
warbling in the bush
beneath my window —

surely he never
stops his mouth
to wonder —

Am I any good?  
Is this right?
Do I deserve
to sing?

The doe
doesn’t ask permission
to bound through the dusk.

The hawk doesn’t circle the mouse
tallying how many times
he’s succeeded
or failed —

He hunts because
he’s hungry,
as I am,

and the deer leaps
because she was born
with those legs,

and the mockingbird sings
because he’s overcome
by joy, joy, joy —

Oh, my God —

All this time You’ve been trying
to teach me.

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