Into the Blue

It’s early, shortly after dawn, a wondrous and cool,

Blue, spring morning. In the crab apple tree just a

Few feet off the patio in my apartment backyard,

A fledgling starling sings, walloping, exercising,

Testing it’s newly feathered wings. What will be-

Come of the world today? I, being neither sooth-

Sayer, prognosticator or seer of worldly fortunes

Have not a clue. What is to be mine, I will handle

Hopefully appropriately as it appears. You, well

For you, it is for you to say, for all of you, each in

Your own way. For many there will be a new be-

Ginning; and then for many more, an ending will

Come. For the fledgling, I shall venture to say, in

A most natural earthly way, I predict with a fair

Percent of accuracy, he or she will leap from its

Branch of security, and for the first time fly into

A wondrous and cool, blue, spring morning. And

As for me here and now watching the day unfold,

I need to know no more.

Chris Hanch 5-22-17