The Birds Wrote Me A Poem

I woke at dawn to hear it

Hi Sweet Friends, 

Lately whenever I’m having a hard moment, if I see or hear a bird, I am immediately snapped back into presence. I truly feel like the birds are communicating with me, whispering their sweet somethings. I took some time recently to imagine what the birds are actually trying to tell me, and wrote it down and recorded the audio to share with you. Enjoy. 

THE BIRDS WROTE ME A POEM

We sing after the storm. We sing during it. We sing through the blizzard. We sing through the percussion of the hail. We sing through the lightning. We harmonize with the thunder. What are you doing with your vocal chords? Why on earth are your eyes still closed? It’s dawn and our song is on your Aspen tree’s radio. Feather your hair and get out here with your high notes, hot stuff.  Why stay in bed when you could be high-fiving the sunrise? Human awe is an endangered species. Do not let your astonishment go extinct. Go wild for the wildness of your being. Sing off key and call it a yet-to-be-invented note. Why are you acting like a birdcage caught your heart? No matter what hurts, love yourself enough to never think your ribcage is locked. Just because your life isn’t a piece of cake doesn’t mean it can’t be sweet. We know you’ve been taught the opposite, but for goodness sakes, think your own thoughts. Don’t be a parrot on the world’s shoulder. Ask new questions. What do I have in common with the person I judge most? Why is loving someone who doesn’t love me back a sad tune? Isn’t the one who loves, the one who is lucky? Consider the possibility that no one can break your trust. It’s your trust, after all. No one else’s. Write this down with a feather pen: My emotions are doors opened by my willingness to feel them. You can feel sad without chaining yourself to sadness. You can feel fear without believing fear is the truth. If that feels difficult at first, just wing it. (That’s our motto. Just wing it.) It is absolutely possible to make a nest of a hurricane. To make a clearing of the fog. Ask yourself, “What love can I make of this loss?” Humans, remember, are nightshades. They grow in the dark. Does that mean you are made by your pain? No. Does that mean you are made by your decision to turn your pain into medicine for the world? No. You are made by knowing that you can’t be made or unmade. Understand who you are without your beliefs about who you should be. Stop clipping the wings of life’s magic. Beneath your running mind is a heart that knows that kind of exercise is ridiculous. Every day is a great day to hatch wonder. Rubble the walls between yourself and everyone until you’re sure the scenes of strangers' lives will pass before your eyes when you die. If that doesn't make sense right now, it will one morning, when you wake at sunrise, walk out to your porch, and see a flock of ten thousand starlings circling above your head. There I am, you’ll think, looking up at us. There I am.  

Thank you for your continued support of my art, everyone! Do you ever wake at dawn to listen to the wisdom of the birds? If so, what do they say to you? Please share in the comments. I cherish reading your words.

Love, Andrea 🖤

News & Updates:

△ I had a wonderful conversation with the tender hearted and brilliant writer,

Jane Ratcliffe

that left me feeling so inspired. The conversation was released in three parts which you can find below:

Becoming Love: A Conversation with Andrea Gibson, Part I: On dog’s paws, cancer, loving our bodies, telling the truth, extended bliss, healing protocols, self-love, and truly meeting the present moment.

Becoming Love: A Conversation with Andrea Gibson, Part II: On happiness as a birthright, being here now, releasing “trying”, sustained joy, dying joyfully, love as presence and guidance, and becoming each other.

Craft Advice with Andrea Gibson, Part III: On the movement of writing, the sound of a poem, editing the inner critic and Andrea’s memoir. Plus a fantastic writing prompt.

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