wildscape. literary journal

songbirds
by K.M. Hanslik

Suddenly there were no more words 
for wandering. Birdsong, I found, 

is a good remedy for lostness, planted 
in the hours it took me to find my way home. 

In the past, I made rooms in my mind 
and nests in my heart, and neither 

have managed to tether me. I have grown 
wings from stumps as many times 

as morning has flown me away again. 
There was a time I believed prayers 

sat like stones, unmoving, reminding God 
of their weight. Now, I know prayer

as the dawn light guiding the songbird 
who has traveled twenty-thousand miles 

toward salvation, its tireless body finding 
refuge upon the roof of my house, and my palms 

outstretched towards it, the melody pouring 
like light from its beak, as if it has come home

only to bring me the sun.

about the author // K.M. Hanslik