They call it bird watching,
Perhaps watching bird would be better?
She is a queen after all.
You thought her neck brown,
Turned out it was blue.
Oh but how now she moves and dances,
For no one but you.
The one with long feathers reaching up to God’s time.
Your blue, the same blue as her’s.
In your spanning tail and her neck too.
Which you thought brown but wasn’t.
Silly peacock…as much as God made you for her,
He also made her for you.
Shame how you have forgotten,
Despite her remembrance.
That’s the plan, you know?
Oh you didn’t….
Let me tell you.
Boy finds girl.
Boy loses girl.
Girl pretends not to notice.
She notices everyting.
Especially your not noticing.
Do you see what I’ve seen though?
How she looks without looking.
How she climbs to the roof to see even better.
How she stands next to other birds, she once considered inferior.
But now she’s not so sure, is she?After all, chickens do lay eggs daily. Does she?
She can’t remember now.
But then she does. No more eggs for her. Her’s are rare as hen’s teeth
And you, with those God’s-time feathers,
Reaching across the span of pavement,
Will look and look for her.
Not knowing what you are seeking.
Unintersted in brown-necked hens,
After all, it turns out.
Unsatisfied with your own beauty,
You open your tail and hobble about.
Oblivious to those watching you and snapping photos – like me.
Silly thing, look up!
She’s been watching you from above,
Knowing you couldn’t lose her if you tried.
No matter how lost you seemed.
They call it bird watching.Watching bird, more like.
A. Nicky Hjort Books 