Improv 2, Post 9, Week 8

The Sound of Birds at Noon
Dahlia Ravikovitch

This chirping
is not in the lease malicious.
They sing without giving us a though
and they are as many
as the seed of Abraham.
They have a life of their own,
they fly without thinking.
Some are rare, some common,
but every wing is grace.
Their hearts aren't heavy,
even when they peck at a worm.
Perhaps they're light-headed.
The heavens were given to them
to rule over day and night
and when they touch a branch,
the branch too is theirs.
This chirping is entirely free of malice.
Over the years
it even seems to have
a note of compassion.


The Sound of Wolves at Nightfall
Casey LaRue

This howling
is not in the least malicious.
They feed without giving us a thought
and they form together
like families and clans.
They have a hunger of their own,
they feed without thinking.
Some are wild, some tame,
but every paw is cunning.
Their hearts love
enough to see their young raised.
Perhaps they're lonely.
The forests were given to them
to watch over especially by night
and when they sing to the moon,
the moon too is theirs.
This howling is entirely free of malice.
Over the years
it even seems to have
a twinge of pain.