Mother robin has built her nest
outside our front door.
She flies away every time we pass.
Then, from a safe distance, she scolds us —
we who sympathize because we live
near highways, railroads, and pipelines;
we who endure low-flying airliners and
fear underground tectonic shifts;
we with homes at risk
of fire and flood;
we with land in the crosshairs
of developers and tax assessors;
we who live in the trajectories
of war, plague, ideology, and revolution;
we who listen for God’s word;
we who hope to be moved;
we who have promised to follow.


Photo of homes seen from a moving train.
Photo copyright 2016; text, 2018 by Danny N. Schweers

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Bill wrote:
Good juxtaposition of image and verse. The bottom of the picture looks like a bird’s nest, and the orange is that of a robin as well. Nice. And nice thoughts in the poem as well.

Hugh wrote:
Great image!

Janet wrote:
Really like this one, esp as we have a Robin who nested in a rosebush by our AC unit. We’re having construction done by this location soon, so I hope chicks will have hatched and fledged by then! We also live in a crosshairs of sorts. Busy roads, trucks, loud motorcycles. We seek quiet. Thanks. [The author replied: I think of us as brave, putting down roots in a world in motion.]

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