Spring and Robins

Today, a Robin danced in the grass.

Its chest was like a blazing fire,

and puffed like a balloon full of gas.

A tiny, but arrogant flier.

 

Above me, small birds flew overhead.

Some twittered on branches and benches.

Others had stone gazes, as if dead,

waiting for worms hiding in trenches.

 

At last, spring had finally arrived,

with its bright colors and its splendor.

By this pure sight, I was not revived.

My mind felt like a whirling blender.

Graduation will come fast in May,

and the thought made me very restless.

College is not where I wish to stay,

but what lies beyond leaves me breathless.

 

My path was clear for twenty-two years.

Yet, unlike the robin’s bright red breast,

the final step still remained unclear.

I do not know of what will come next.

 

At eighteen there was little to fear,

my desire was to reach first rank!

Now, I’ve nearly lost all that is dear,

my once bright future is now a blank.

 

The virus and unrest brought no peace,

each day is a fight to leave my bed.

Enough of this mess! I want release!

The stress and doubts are filling my head!

 

Just when it felt like I would explode,

I saw the Robin standing quite still,

almost as if time itself had slowed.

Why? It was staring at ants on a hill.

 

Like a scientist watching lab rats,

its eyes never strayed from its small claim.

Some quick motions, faster than a cat

it picked off the ants with perfect aim.

 

The robin raised its head and twittered

of its victory, not once but twice.

As I watched it fly towards the blue sky,

I heard a whisper of some advice.

 

Promptly did my worries fall away,

once I saw that bright look in its eye.

Robins only worried for the now,

because life is short and will pass by.

 

Forget the thoughts of what will occur,

take life in stride and learn to have fun.

One blink and time passes in a blur.

Best to enjoy life, while I have one.

 

The Robin flew away with its flock,

and I took its lesson to my heart.

My future is a long and bright walk,

Another chapter, and a fresh start.


PoetryPeitra Knight