Haibun: Birb or Borb?

On a walkabout through the spring-green cypress forest, I follow the trail almost blindly. Sun filters through the newborn leaves dappling the surrounding shapes and colors of nature. I am meditating, conversing with God, when a skittering form flashes above and freezes!

A fluffy wren stares at me, obviously ready for instant flight. It’s simple beauty, packaged in such a tiny life form, captures my utmost attention with a feeling of sacredness. Then it relaxes and begins to sing. A recent Audubon article comes to mind.

a tiny bird

twitters above my head…

birb, borb, or floof?

Al W Gallia 2020