The Wild Beyond

A Living Parable of the Blue Birds

Photo by Benoit Gauzere on Unsplash

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day stir up so much in the souls of those who observe such days. Greeting card companies report ten times greater sales for cards on Mother’s Day than Father’s Day. In my work with both men and women, I can understand why.

What has captured my attention this week are the busy blue bird couple feverishly working to get their nest ready. This morning, I made my coffee and sat down in my living room facing the eastern sky and rising morning sun and with a front row seat to watch the Bluebird couple show up for another day of being Blue Birds.

I’ve written about this before but this time, as I watched them, they became a new portal for me to see myself, my marriage and my life with Gwen. I was curious to watch one inside the house; one outside bringing sticks and twigs to the hole where the one inside took them and arranged the nest. It went on for an hour and just now, as I’m writing this, they are back at it again. They must have taken a nap or rest in between my first cup of coffee, my shower and now sitting up stairs in my glass tree house where I am no more than fifteen feet away from them working.

They are working. I am working. They are a couple. We are a couple. They are nesting together. Gwen and I have nested together. There’s much, much, much in common.

We have two blue bird houses. Last week, we saw the new baby bluebirds leave their nest—never to return again. Those parents, did the exact same thing, these busy blue bird parents are doing—building a nest for their future legacy. With one quick exit, they left and entered the new wild world to live their one spectacular life.

When Gwen woke up, I asked her to come and watch what I was watching—the busy bluebirds. In between the time that I got up, drank my coffee and watched this circle of life happen right before my own eyes, I wrote a poem. When Gwen got up, I read it to her and together, we moved outside to our porch to watch them together.

Now, I am thinking about all the busy blue bird people I know. I actually texted my poem to a few of them—the ones who I knew were so busy now in their next building years of life and parenting.

I think younger blue bird parents are so busy, they cannot or do not take the time to watch the spiritual parable unfolding in the bluebirds. I don’t think I was into blue birds till the past few years. I was too busy building my nest to watch such a living parable as I am now.

There are lunches to be made; buses to be caught; meetings to be had; laundry to be done; yards to be mowed; stock to be sold, patients to be seen; yoga to do; cross fit to do and on and on it all goes. So, so, so much nesting. So much mothering. So much fathering. So much living in the wild beyond.

So much is happening in this picture below. It’s the view from my chair this morning, where I was sitting and where I watched the couple do their life—doing what they both new needed to be done to get through this phase. But as you look close, see that picture on the table beside the window. That image somehow just appeared as I was both watching and writing my poem. It’s a favortie scene of my from our own nesting in a boat with some of our grandkids. They call it synchonicity. I call it a living parable.

This is the couple I watched.They are perched on top of the blue bird house that Gwen painted.

As you read my poem, what line or phrase sticks out? What’s the phrase you want to both remember and share with me? I’d love to read your thoughts about this living parable.

My earlier poem about the Blue Birds—-well, you can search for it on my subtack. It’s titled “Blue Birds in the Lenten Dark.” Sorry, but I couldn’t figure out how to link it here.

My poems on Substack are shared for those who support my work as an emerging poet. If you’d like to get on board and blow some wind in my sails, then please do as I am always encouraged deeply by both your support and our little on line community we are building together. And if you cant’s right now, let me know and you’ll get added just for asking: info@pottersinn.com