A Tear for Birds and Mountains

I waken in the morning as a glorious sun is dawning.
I lie there full aware of sounds around me.
I thrill to Magpies scolding, to Bluejays loudly holding
That the sun will soon be blazing high without me.

The Robins seeking crickets, the Warblers in the thickets
All are singing: Oh, how great to be alive!
I know the Trout are waiting; but I lie there cogitating.
On the depths of nature's music do I thrive.

As the Morning Dove are cooing, from the sleeping bag I'm moving
And I dress and leave the tent to face the day.
Then, what a scene confronts me! 'neath a sky so bright it hurts me
Are the mountains and the valley where I play.

The Chipmonks squeek and chatter, the Squirrels add their patter.
But, the one which catches my eye with a flash
Is the Osprey, soaring, flairing, with its lovely regal bearing
Sweeping in on wilely Rainbow with a dash.

Successful in its effort, my feathered fisher cohort
Wings its way across the water, heading home.
I wonder at its skillfulness, ability to acquiesce
To nature's rules by which it's bound to roam.
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And I ponder if I will again, enjoy the purest oxygen
Found only at the hights of my dear mountain.
And I listen to the birds repeating, sounds forevermore entreating
Me to come, relax with them,
     and live in nature's fountain.