Scarlet red against the snowy white,
I see you at the feeder
munching on sunflower seed.
You do not know me.
But I know you.
I’ve watched you from the window-sill,
perched upon the feeder,
cracking seeds open with your beak
in the early morning winter,
ruffling your feathers to keep yourself warm,
hopping along the frozen ground
to pickup any leftovers that may have fallen,
but quick to fly back into the bare bushes
that shield you from the harsh, hollow wind.
You may not know it,
but I have been watching over you.
Making sure to keep your feeder full,
making sure you can find food
without a thorough search
and able to store up enough energy
to keep you warm and alive until spring.
But unknowingly, you have fed me as well.
I look through the glass, longing to see you.
Wishing I could reach out and touch you
and whisper a simple “thank you” and you’d understand.
You are my beauty
against the backdrop of nothing.
You are a fresh reminder of life
when winter leaves me stale and dying.
You give me a dose of laughter
as I watch you twitch your head back and forth,
appearing confused and never able to decipher
the landscape around you.
You remind me of the freedom of simplicity
when my mind becomes wound up like a complicated clock,
clanging with gears and compounded by time.
You are my company when the bitter cold
leaves me locked behind doors.
Dare I call you a friend?
You add color to a film reel
that replays over and over in black and white.
Yes, you and I need each other.
We go on together, unconsciously feeding each other life.