THE LANGUAGE

 I don’t speak the language

Still, I listen, 

am usually soothed 

by their soft, sweet, 

  familiar melodies 

 

But...
 

there are times,
sometimes 
(I admit)

when I might

imagine it differently:

 

Those twinkling tones, 

chips and chatters

might be merely 

day-to-day discourse -- 

nagging wives, hungry husbands, cranky kids:

“You’re late!  Where have you been?”

“Gathering twigs!  What’s for dinner?"

"Worms again?”

“How come we never get to have crickets

like the other chicks?”

(It's true! )
I don’t speak the language

and, sometimes, I am grateful,

so that I may only

listen

and enjoy the music