The Song of Birds

Wanderlino Arruda

It’s a feeling of relief,
immense happiness,
a certainty of being alive,
in a world made by God,
a natural world,
that still exists,
even when we can’t see our neighbors
on the other side of the street.

I admire the song of birds,
yes, the song of free birds,
of birds that fly over,
here, there, everywhere,
where they feel so good,
the true owners of the air,
of the wind, of the sky.

The song of birds
insinuates a sweet morning of seduction,
more than human,

almost divine,
a celestial morning:
blue, green, yellow,
visible song of clarity.

Birds’ songs don’t have only music:
they have light, they glint,
they have movement,
they have color and brightness.
I would say they’ve got perfume
of wild smells
of my hinterland.