Birdsong

Birdsongs offer warmth to sun
They lighten food for flight
And please a place in me
Just as red fingers
Of reawakened maples
Play forever with noon day sun
Their flat fingers, dark red on top
And soft red light below
Must please bees
That fly by to stay alive
Survival in their body of bliss
A great distraction
That sits forever, undigested
In the well muscled crop
Of eternity