listen

In the big comfy bed,

In the morning before you

Rise, start the day, 

take to

Listening

To the words in your head

These words are intuition,

God's voice in your ear,

Maybe, "spirit" angels,

Or the advice a loved one 

from the other side

Whispers

Ask questions 

before you sleep, 

All the answers will come

During the night

So, listen 

before they fly away,

your brain rewrites itself 

I wanted to know why the birds

Are not eating 

from the bird feeder

The answer came

From God or 

sarcastic-ass Jake, 

Neither who will answer 

My big-life existential 

Inquiries 

Jake hates his assignment (me) 

(Jake, my guardian angel,

with his worn leather jacket,

Smokes 2 Marlboro packs a day)

"You are such an idiot, you have what the birds think is a snake hanging next to the feeder, you made this big beaded yellow and black thing and hung it like a necklace on the mulberry tree. The birds think it is a predator."

I listened,  moved

the "snake necklace"

to the Chinaberry 

Now there is a Northern Mockingbird at the feeder

On the Mulberry,

I love the way

he runs his beak up and down

the branch after he eats

Cleaning the suet off his beak,

Leaving the branch 

Sufficiently Oiled

All because I listened 

Thanks, Jake