soft/animal/body

Oh do you have time    to linger        for just a little while            out of your busy

and very important day    for the goldfinches        that have gathered            in a field of thistles

for a musical battle,    to see who can sing        the highest note,            or the lowest,

or the most expressive of mirth,    or the most tender?        Their strong, blunt beaks            drink the air

as they strive    melodiously        not for your sake            and not for mine

and not for the sake of winning    but for sheer delight and gratitude—        believe us, they say,            it is a serious thing

just to be alive    on this fresh morning        in this broken world.            I beg of you,

do not walk by    without pausing        to attend to this            rather ridiculous performance.

It could mean something.    It could mean everything.        It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:            You must change your life.

Kekekeke *fox laugh*

Walt Whitman, ‘Song of Myself’, Leaves of Grass