Tenacity of Mud

Tenacity of mud

Stories that soothe the wind!
Softness in the wings
like melted chocolate.
Male and female,
industrious alike,
they sing strident symphonies,
they promise faithfulness.
They walk in little hops,
and with their small heads they choose:
it will be here, or a bit farther on.
Strong branches for their nest,
perhaps a post or some eave.
With their beaks they wait, eager,
for the rain that turns dust into mud.
They gather little leaves and twigs,
they make small pellets.
Comings and goings in heat or in cold,
in calm or in storm.
One week and one day,
and it is ready for their majesty.

A carpet of fresh grass
in front of the main room,
a gallery at the entrance
that casts forth dreams.
There they lay down their love
in the central chamber.
Time to hunt down banquets
for the sweet waiting
that will end in fifteen days
when the shells crack open
and they are heard peeping.