Poem

I Love the Birds

A quiet celebration of the living world, and the way it moves through us.

The Work

I love the birds.

They hurl themselves at gushing winds. Reach. Open. Soar.

I love the birds.

The clever red-breasted wise ones.

Digging. Eyeing. Worm.

I love the birds.

Ancient corvid perching with the wandering.

Exhale, connective.

Sky. Feather. Moon.

I love the birds.

They sing through dew-kissed windows In the morning.

I know I’m home.

I love the birds.

- James Essex

Share

About the piece

Leave a Trace

If this moved something in you, leave a thought behind.

Support

Work like this is made slowly,
and given away.

If I Love the Birds stayed with you, a coffee keeps the next one moving.

No paywall · No account · Entirely optional

Related works

Mixed-media non-fiction30.11.25

Resentment is madness, with healing on the other side.

Mode Rebel Themes01.10.25

A film and poem about identity, belonging, and ancestral presence.