Saw a bright red cardinal with her mohawk tufted up boldly today

come land on our winter bird feeder in the melting ice of this region

Of the world, after many storms.

She said to me in cardinal talk: this is

A great time for a real art movement

Again friend- to plant some of these seeds

in the ground.

And then she darted and chirped off

Towards the bare cold branches to wait

As birds and angels do,

For me to refill the bird seed

So we all have a place to be,

And another Branch

To land on while waiting.

It was the cardinal who said it all,

Not me. She just wanted us to be free,

as i understood it.

To be free to be-which is to give.

She also spoke of

Love and forgetfulness before she returned to get some more seeds for her fledglings from this

Earth and us.

And my dumb cold hands

Too numb to remember their

Real tasks!

Or,

what to say back to a cardinal

when she really speaks

into your heart

and just needs a seed

or two, on a cold day.