There’s an Eurasian hoopoe searching

for worms in my garden.  

Dig dig dig 

It pauses, looks up —

eyes off the grass for a moment

Pick pick pick

Zebra-like feathers flutter,

it swallows a worm or some critter;

I can’t quite see its minuscule meal.

Its crown sways slightly

mimicking the palm fronds 

shadowing the pristine pool’s surface.

Pick pick pick me!

Turn off my people-pleasing pleas,

dig dig dig deep for nourishment 

within my own mind for a morsel of

hope hope hope 

for a peaceful planet.

A new hud hud joins for supper  

(that’s what we call the hoopoe)

Perfect name for the meditative 

hud hud hud

Their daily ritual to seek out life 

mirrors the sound of their voice.

I think of the dead under the rubble 

Dig dig dig 

Voices lost, starved of dignity, 

but their resilience is steadfast.

Hope hope hope 

for a free Falastin.

Two hoopoes watch each other

Dig dig dig 

Stripes flutter, awaiting disaster

Hop hop hop 

away from each other;  

socially distanced dinner mates.

Hud huds migrate here 

every summer like clockwork;

the local birds don’t riot.

Enough worms for all

Dig dig dig 

deep into your humanity.

Beaks used as swords in battle, 

they yell out and butt heads, 

but one swiftly backs away. 

Dig dig dig 

Focus on my own belly 

without a care or worry.

Hud hud hud 

Its crown flares suddenly:

a sign of something in the air.

I wonder how it knows.

Next moment, a raven is here,

swooping down, claiming the territory.

One hud hud calls out and escapes,

the other stays, just flies

to another corner of my garden. 

Dig dig dig 

Focus on what you can control. 

Stay strong, hold your ground!

Pick pick pick 

the right people to stand by.

Manners and morals matter.

I hope hope hope 

for a peaceful planet; 

the Eurasian hoopoe flies away…

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