
The woodpecker with its beautiful crown of red and feathers of blue
alights on the side of the big oak tree.
Quickly setting to work,
diligently, making holes in the bark, tapping the marrow of the tree.
Rhythmically and expeditiously it farms.
The tree doesn’t seem to mind.
Is the woodpecker successfully harvesting sustenance?
Or, could it be coming up empty?
Simply searching,
patiently,
methodically,
systematically.
Poking
and poking,
until the choice is made
to go elsewhere,
or remain here,
seeking,
practicing,
exploring its skills
and talents,
supported,
nourished,
and satisfied,
wherever it chooses to be.









