The Cardinal

When I wake before sunrise
and look out through the blinds
to see the cardinal on the fence
across the street and think of
how sweet it would be
for the red I feel in me
to be visible like that? I imagine
what it would be like to be secure
in flaunting that vibrance.

I try to reimagine my life
from beginning to now as crimson,
as fire, my blood spilling out
so swiftly no one could mistake me
for plain brown or blush-tinged white
no matter how far away they were.

The cardinal as ever 
does not stay long but instead
of flying off he comes to sit
atop the feeder here as if to say:
the red in you is yours,
is right here — if not quite 
within reach it is yours to attract
and sustain. You can
fly a red flight as I do;
dipping and rising and landing
where you want. 

I try to reimagine my life till now
as the start of a long cardinal’s flight —
catching a glimpse of red
as it dips and rises, dips
and rises; not seeing from here
where it will land, but confident
that if I pay attention, I will eventually
see that and be at peace.