Look at the gifts we see

See that tree in the sky?

Red berries scattered wide

The goosebumps of fire

Hey little blue bird,

calling from the tree

Calling down to me

Of something yet to be

A harmonious prophecy.

Tell me little blue bird,

What's it going to be?

Is the future bright?

You are my calling card of spice and light.

Look what's in laid in front of me

A spiders web of geometry of endless possibilities

A complex trigonometry.

Right here there's something else I see

A park bench dedicated to Olive E. Robinson

In loving memory

Who loved this park with it's birds and trees

And looking closer there's more I see

Right here in front of me

A spice, a seed of destiny

Red berries scattered wide

Shining in the morning light

Promises of life

Of growth and of might.

Though right now they are goosebumps of fire on the Earth's skin

Telling me to breath the moment in.

Let the Divine have it's mysteries,

It's guidance with it's subtleties.