You, watching me in mystified wonder,
Uttering vibrations like a mobile phone,
While I pour water and brush
The windowsill you so gaily stickied up
With your sloppy toddler eating,
Smooshed apple all over your face.
Is it not enough that you rouse me
When the sun has scarcely risen,
With those soft sweet chirrupings
And I, like a bleary-eyed mother,
Stagger from the kitchen
With your morning feed
Before you, impatiently, ramp up the volume
With more raucous demands –
What a sense of entitlement!
Without ceremony you hoe into my offering
While I watch with tranquil amusement,
And pause, in wondering admiration,
At your plumage, all violent Fauvist primaries,
Dreamed up by your birdly intelligence.
How did you create a colour scheme
As brash as your insouciant personality?
With fond indulgence I watch you feast,
Gorging away as if there’s no tomorrow.
I fall to ruminating, about now, about existence,
The early hour notwithstanding,
On how you cause me to halt, to pause
My ceaseless mental chattering,
To stay a while in your company,
Watching fondly as you demolish
My humble offering of chopped apple,
And appreciating the serenity of being
In the present moment.
