Birds During a Pandemic

I stand with my feet placed 

Mindfully together, 

Head slowly bows 

Towards the earth. 

Just then, a woodpecker 

Right outside my window 

Shows its gaudy red cap,

Pecking loudly at the feeder. 

Before you know it 

He call his friends, and

I’m engaging in the banned act 

Of communal prayer 

With a gathering 

Of birds. 

I try to reflect and maintain focus

While the birds are chattering endlessly 

And pecking their breakfast 

Out from my birdfeeder. 

Haven’t they any respect? 

I chuckle at the thought

Of them in the synagogue, still yelling,

When we return to normalcy. 

On top of my feeder a bluejay is singing.

There are places where gathering limits are

Smaller than my family 

But the bluejay calls over

Swaths of children and friends

Without a worry. 

Their world isn’t shaken, 

Their world hasn’t been touched. 

The birds continue chirping in sweet naivety. 

They have reversed the roles on us.

While we are now caged in our homes

My birds’ cage door,

Much to their delight, is always open.

Squawking until we fulfill their every demand, 

They are in the limelight of freedom in this house.  

The birds are still 

Waking up with the sky 

And chattering during prayer 

Like they have nothing to request 

From God. 

And there’s a sort of hope I’ve found here, 

There’s a truth I’ve learned 

From their tunes

When they sing, and talk, 

And forget to check the news. 

These birds, I think they live in the future,

When Nature will restore

What she has taken away

As Nature will do. 

The birds, they act no differently

Than they did before the world 

Seemed to crumble 

Under the crushing of the merciless,

Veiled force, peering around every corner,

They live in the post-plague world,

They are free.