Pigeon In The Rain

Connecting in a coffee shop with my son,

Conversation good, gradually climbing better.

Rains and thunder, choking out the sun,

Awe, so tranquil, fetters feeling none.

 

Calm disrupted viewing through the window

Pigeon on a power line drenched on a perch.

No cover ever sought, no oak no willow,

Safety's at his spot, his place, for this fellow.

 

Watching that pigeon, sipping my coffee

Epiphany transcended to the power of that spot.

For in a storm fly do I for a tree,

But fly to my power line, my shop of coffee.

 

This spot I claim my sacred place, my peaceful shrine

For when storms swirl around, feelings become enslave,

I am a man in his coffee shop, a bird on a power line,


Brother with a pigeon, spirit of the divine.