Not A Peep

We were watching as the actors squabbled on TV.
We could tell that their fictional relationship
would not last much longer.

Still, in the background of the scene, some birds
were singing along as if it all was real, though
nobody had provided them with a script.

I’ve heard myself claim that it’s all an illusion,
though lately I don’t pay myself much mind.

It may take an illusion to spot an illusion,
yet the birds in the film keep singing.

When a predator hawk swoops across the screen,
all the birds grow quiet. They aren’t confused
by philosophy — nobody makes a peep.


About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
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