Summer days

I squint as the sun glares at the earth,

As though it is watching.

The wind flutters faintly,

Overcome by the beauty of this day.

I kneel and watch the birds

As they watch me.

I wonder what they are thinking,

Or saying to each other

In their high-pitched chirps.

Or maybe, they are just singing with joy.

I watch as a blue jay lands on the old sycamore,

And the branches seem unperturbed.

The bird is now a part of the tree

and the fluttering leaves that caress the air.

I see the bark that has peeled in places,

From the harsh weather it has endured

And I wonder why it sits so calmly.