Read the leaves, truth sayer.
Oh Oracle of Delphi, read the bones.
Hear stories of women and family.
Nature observation paves my way
to personal understanding.
I talk to wildflowers in the garden
that overflow their boundaries
and watch the birds in the yard,
it’s where I discover truths that change me.
In the birdhouses live Jenny wrens,
bluebirds, chickadees, starlings,
the feeders gather colored feathers.
In the wild, species band together,
land claims are made by a mob of crows,
a rouge of cardinals, a flock of blackbirds.
At the feeders, they lay aside feuds,
a rainbow eats side by side.
I go to birds and flowers
to learn something about healing.



About the Poet:  Ingrid Bruck writes poetry, makes jam and grows wildflowers. She’s a retired librarian living in the Amish country of Pennsylvania that inhabits her writing. Her favorite writing forms are short. Some current work appears in Unbroken Journal, Halcyon Days, Quatrain.Fish, Entropy, and The Song Is. Her poetry site is:



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