Gifting Of The Birds
They say a princess
will have the Fae come to her birth
to make her fate with augury for gifts,
but the peasant dreams in birds
rainbowed as the sky, as sleek as night,
gathered round her cradle
with a liquid blackbird murmur
with two tumbling raven feathers
with six scarlet cardinal sins,
swarming seven snowy days
with all their gifts and curses, not sure
which to give her, some of this and some of that,
sum of love and losing, morning song
or evening silence, heart of grace,
tongue of willow, green mossflower, desert spine,
hard horse apples or sweet blood-oranges
of November moon, all or none of these
before they fly, on to the next accouchement.
Still from time to time she sees them perching,
come back to check their work
cocking tiny heads aslant,
looking but not telling, never saying
more than a bird might say
about the time that's coming
when all gifts will be opened,
all the curses told.
What will you do at last,
their bright eyes seem to wink,
with what we gave you,
before you can do no more?
April 2022
posted for
Images: Birds of Paradise, © Vincente Manansala Fair Use
Bird in Spectacles, author unknown, via Sunday Muse Fair Use
