where the hum of some unseen machine
and the river’s shushing voice converge
stands a wren – minute, Pacific,
proud as royalty on his perch
– an upraised branch,
acoustic center of this widened grove
your voice prevails
your message is supreme
in this the space and moment of your choosing
your own personal zip buzz and trill
proclaiming – or maybe just
giving voice to an idea, a thought,
a desire or will
or maybe all of these, maybe
your song scatters wishes
through the forest, sparkling
the grandeur of your heart
© Tracy Hudson 2023
