Finding Home

     I was preparing my first cup of coffee in the morning when the black-naped Orioles began calling. They occasionally visit the Neem Tree that grew just outside our property ten years ago. I noticed how it sounded as if there were more than two orioles which was a rare occurrence. And so, I decided to take my coffee outside.       It took a while before they sang again, maybe a good 5-7 minutes or so. In which time, I had already taken the first few, very much welcome sips of my waking brew. I took in their song still seated, resisting the immediate urge to have a visual on them. I continued to relish my cup of black whilst basking in their music. As I did, I heard the zebra doves cooing their soothing tune like a flute as well. The yellow-vented bulbuls were chiming in their short but sweet tones. And not to be excluded were the Philippine-pied fan tails with their staccato-like chirps. It was as if I was listening to a mini symphony live. The garden was my music hall and the music

  Breath is found  On the torn wings of a butterfly In a fragment of a poem Written on cobwebs with morning dew  On a daring bud of Hibiscus shivering In the chill of the afternoon  In winds that kiss gently And sunsets that soothe  On grains of sand between  tired toes and soles grounding you In ocean waves that hold space In sky and earth fully present for you And heal you and heal you, and heal you Breathe, breathe, breathe.