BY Colleen Keating
from my balcony I watch a friar bird
nestled high in the palm fronds
lay one egg a day for four days
two to four eggs is normal
each one is miracle enough
in the dark of night
mother bird rests on her eggs
rises to sing the dawn
as she awaits her chicks
the gardener comes
to clear spindly fronds
I shout down
over the chainsaw
“stop there is a nest here”
last evening I shooed a brush turkey
didn’t know they could fly this high
how long to wait?
it says twenty-eight days gestation
then the chicks to rear!
how fragile is life in a nest
in a manger
how fragile how precious
life in a refugee boat
fractured moonlight glints
from the dark of a broken world
our whisper of prayer
rises to sing the dawn
Christmas is in the air
light pierces the dark
