Nest eggs

This beautiful mama bird lives on the air conditioner outside my bedroom window. I wonder if she shopped around before settiling down on the 2nd block of Catharine Street here in the Queen Village neighborhood of Philadelphia. After all, she probabbly could have had a ton more window sill space in the Art Museum. With a garage. And a roof deck.


Anyway, I'm glad she landed here. I do believe she posed for this picture, regal creature that she is. And I cannot help but look for the symbolism in her presence -- rebirth, transformation, renewal, protection, growth, family... all these hallmark happy things.


Then again, maybe the universe (just in time for tax season), well aware of my propensity for procrastination, has delivered a nudge to start building some semblance of a nest egg before I go gray. This is also possible, but I prefer the more poetic interpretation, especially since I have been very busy lately with the syrupy stuff of poetry-- quite a departure from my last lovelorn blog entry, it's true.



I'm not quite ready to write about this new adventure and will instead defer to e.e.cummings. Be advised, if you're still cynically clinging to your winter doldrums, these super saccharine sounds of springtime might make you downright nauseous. Try it out. Read it aloud. See what happens.

I'll be back soon with more tales about the crazy magic of yoga. Meantime, come yoga with me-- check out my updated spring schedule. Hope to see you in class!

when faces called flowers float out of the ground
and breathing is wishing and wishing is having-but keeping is downward and doubting and never-
it's april(yes,april;my darling)it's spring!
yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly
yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be
(yes the mountains are dancing together)
when every leaf opens without any sound
and wishing is having and having is giving-but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense-alive;we're alive,dear:it's(kiss me now)spring!
now the pretty birds hover so she and so he
now the little fish quiver so you and so inow the mountains are dancing, the mountains)
when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing-
it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the skyall the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
all the mountains are dancing;are dancing