FILLED WITH BIRDS
Dawn glides in silence,
Settles
Crystallising
around purring cats,
(quiet watching eyes
filling each room).
This house:
A pebble set against
A river of wind.
Two days ago
The sun splashed spring,
A bright relaxing,
Filled with birds.
Now,
Winter has returned
To gnaw our bones.
Still, light is growing
At either end of day,
Stretched, though, and pale,
But welcome.
I am become an interweaving
Of days and moments,
A halting song
Made poignant
By strange harmony,
An old song
With new words
And a new tune.
Days
Filled with birds.
Nights,
Dream-filled,
Word-filled.
A pebble set
Against
A river of time.
simonhlilly 
I savored this poem as I would a glass of fine wine.
Thank you, glad you drank it down!
absoulutly a lovely poem. i feel the spontanaity and humour. pebble indeed!!
Pebble: a big lump worn down!