Listening for music

	lone bird, saying nothing... breeze ruffling your fringe I hear it so slightly a mystical twinge the soft lapping water a rustle of palms when lost in my thoughts might not notice at all
	sometimes, there's nothing the chimes get so still no reverb no hum no squawking, no trill just that loud tinny ring in my poor little ears that's okay... means I'm here
	it's then I escape.. what I want, what I've learned... to the movement of echos, fragile pages are turned, scratchy old notes, & rusty old words... made up by me, sung by somebody's bird
	tell me, lone thing... what sound do you heed when your world muffles low? the chug of a froggie backstroking below? the creak of a milkweed, that strains as she grows?
	the finely tuned buzz of a faraway bee, & all those small sounds that allude things like me? do you recite lyrics of whistling clouds? do you lift? do you sway? in your heart, do you sing? alone & aloft with the swish of a wing?
	The Great Blue Heron has a wingspan of up to 79 inches, but weighs less than 5 pounds. Humans are mostly water. Birds are mostly air.
notes to self: 1. little sounds are like music 2. nature's music is free