NeuroDivine

The rooks debate the morning light
above the still canal;
a blackcap threads a quieter line
that steadies all this shall.

The collared doves rehearse their coos
along the platform’s span,
while chaffinches throw sparks of song
across the metal plan.

The wrens slip through the brambled edge
where water meets the rail,
their stitching notes a counterpoint
to every passing tale.

And when the tracks begin to hum
with promise drawing near,
I wait beside the canal’s long breath
held in the birdsong here.

Reflection

Listening to the birds beside the canal, I’m reminded how easily the world keeps singing whether or not I am ready for it. The rooks, the wrens, the soft pulse of the doves—they turn an ordinary wait for a train into something steadier, almost prayerful. Their voices cross the platforms and the water with no urgency at all, and for a moment I’m held in that same unhurried rhythm, simply present, simply listening.

Copyright 2026 Michael McFarland Campbell