Through my Tiny Window – a Soliloquy

Through my Tiny Window – a Soliloquy

“So wet and dull is this autumn morning
like a grey blanket shrouding my soul.
My face is cold, very cold.
The wall behind my head is freezing.
Under the covers, at least my body is warm.

From my tiny bedroom window, I watch the tall
Silver Birch trees outside, gracefully bending
to the savage winds that swirl around my tiny house.
Trees are nearly bare.
Most of the leaves have blown off, sacrificing themselves to springs new birth.
Steadily they float down to cover the ground in a golden carpet, tossed hither and thither by the wind.

I sip coffee and warm my cold hands around the cup.
Each day I watch, one green leaf hanging defiantly on in spite of the icy blast, willing it to survive.
For two days my robin has not been to see me, I wish he would come.
I hear singing from other parts of the woods, but still he does not come to see me.

The trees are full of blue -tits, they are a joy to watch, darting from twig to branch comically hanging upside down, sometimes, pecking at the remaining leaves, looking for insects.
Tomorrow I will hang some fat on the tree, they like that.
For a week, a huge black and white bird has been around.
My sister tells me these birds eat small birds, I feel panic.
Suddenly I see him, diving in fast.
The branches of the tree shake violently as he launches to catch a small blue-tit.
I am afraid he may eat my robin, my heart squeezes in pain at the thought of it.

After so much activity, the blue-tits are absent
I can watch them for hours through my little square window, so agile and amusing, now they are gone.
Maybe they are afraid and are hiding from the black and white predator.
As I watch the lifeless tree in misery, I brush tears from my cold cheek.

Suddenly there he is, right in front of me.
My robin.
He looks directly at me, twittering, there is no song though.
I smile broadly now happiness fills my heart.
It is as if he reads my thoughts and is reassuring me that he is alright.
I speak to him mentally, telling him how pleased I am that he has returned and is safe.
He twitters back, we are having a conversation.
I marvel at the wonders of the universal connections between us all.
That the robin reads my thoughts is a marvel in itself.
I want to hear him sing just once before I get out of bed

Then, as if he hears my wishes, he lifts his head, his chest swells out and the sweetest notes leave that tiny throat, filling the woods and filling my heart.
What a wonderful way to greet the day.”

Bridget Manning ©

About the author

2732 Up Votes
I tried to be normal once - worst two minutes of my life. Away with the fairies! I think I am either an alien or an Elf. Childlike and humorous...most of the time!

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23rd Oct 2018
Thanks for voting!
Thank you for liking my poem Lochinvar. Yes, the real twitter is enchanting unless it is frantic a Sparrowhawk is it? Thanks for that.
Man cave? Just a shed with tools and rubbish I bet.
23rd Oct 2018
Thanks for voting!
A simply beautiful soliloquy Bridget. To be able to think and imagine and reason, is a truly wonderful thing. How lucky we are.
23rd Oct 2018
Thanks for voting!
You really are very kind Karen, it is a true story, just had to be written down, I kept a notebook and pen by my bed just to capture the moment.
Thank you.

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