SONGBIRDS

each moment

is an ardor 

and a mystery

waiting to arise

there is no noise

there is only 

the emerging signals

the random 

fluctuations and flukes 

ready to be teased 

into trial and error

refined into happy 

accidents arranged 

as patterns

repeatable in song

birds do this 

perched in their trees

rehearsing behind leaves

Beethoven did this 

on walks in the woods

in notebooks 

his snippets captured

as seeds

for great symphonies

what do you hear?

please, sing your song

one stray note 

at a time