| The
Song of Birds
Wanderlino
Arruda
It’s
a feeling of relief,
immense happiness,
a certainty of being alive,
in a world made by God,
a natural world,
that still exists,
even when we can’t see
our neighbors
on the other side of the street.
I
admire the song of birds,
yes, the song of free birds,
of birds that fly over,
here, there, everywhere,
where they feel so good,
the true owners of the air,
of the wind, of the sky.
The
song of birds
insinuates a sweet morning
of seduction,
more than human,
almost
divine,
a celestial morning:
blue, green, yellow,
visible song of clarity.
Birds’
songs don’t have only
music:
they have light, they glint,
they have movement,
they have color and brightness.
I would say they’ve
got perfume
of wild smells
of my hinterland.
|
