Visitor at my window a (c) poem by Kevin Jones 2021.
Visitor at my window
There is a pigeon outside my window picking through the gravel,
Trying to find some insect to eat before he moves to travel.
The grounds are busy where I am so plenty of food to find,
I wonder then why he has chosen the gravel – on his beak it can’t be kind.
Of all the places he could go competition will be low,
It’s not near a bin or even an area that people are likely to go.
Yet he seems to find something every “dip” he makes,
A little ant, spider or other bug he consumes whilst I spectate.
There is a pigeon sitting on the gravel outside of my window,
This time he is basking in the sun and the gentle breeze that flows.
He has found an ideal spot with no sign of any natural foe,
He can eat and rest until it is his time for him to go.
I have enjoyed my time with him watching what he does,
No fumes, no risk from people cascading off the bus.
I am reminded of the man that was living on a shore,
Foraging and catching enough food each day without the need to store.
When asked why he didn’t pick and catch more so that he could sell it and relax,
He simply smiled and said “so I can spend more time on the beach” – isn’t that the fact.
So like the pigeon and the beach man look at what you think you need,
A total Spartan life is not for everyone , however, I concede.
But there may be a position between full on and horizontal that you could adapt,
Giving you the time to do what you want to do – the gift of time unwrapped.
Time is our only equal everyone’s minute is the same,
So spend each one carefully, dear reader, as there will only be you to blame.