The Nestling

I woke to morn, mouth open wide

yet not in feathered bed

but in a nest atop a tree

and reaching toward the sky


Perched high from ground to take the fruit

wearing but my skin of birth

abrupt and swiftly wisdom flowed

awareness taking root


I wake to morn and wonder meaning

of a message kindly sent

by some wise spirit who had appeared

while I lay deftly dreaming.


(I sketched this the morning after so I would not forget)

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