I love watching the robins appear in spring. Such a hopeful sign, and the way they hop about the yard and collect items for their nests intrigues me as well. They are known for making nests above doorways, flying over your head as you come and go. I’ve always wondered about their nests, why they’d put them so close to us careless humans, but they also do a good job of protecting their nests, their babies, the things most precious to them. And I realized it was the key to life, to show the world your heart, but also to protect it.
Years ago, I wasn’t always good with boundaries in that area. I’d been hurt so much as a kid that I had to learn to love properly as an adult. In my quest for safe emotional boundaries I would either open up my heart totally to everyone or remain closed off. When you learn and grow sometimes you take two steps forward and one back, but you keep going nonetheless. I did that. God moved me in a positive direction, so I could have a loving marriage, positive relationships, and cherished friendships.
One spring day as I thought of those robins and my own emotional growth I wrote this poem. It is found in my book, My Soul Is From a Different Place.
“Robins Nest”
The robin sings
“Follow me.
I have a secret
to show you.”
She leads me
to a doorway,
where above
sits her nest.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
From a distance,
it is the color of mud,
made with sticks and feathers.
Beautiful?
I shake my head.
“You need to look closely,”
she says, giving me a nudge.
I walk slowly towards it
and see eggs inside,
a brilliant color
of blue.
Their oval shape
set perfectly against
the sharp edges
of the nest.
I reach out
to touch them
and prick
my finger
on the edges
of a twig
that is hidden just
beneath the surface.
As I pull back my hand,
the robin says,
“I patterned this nest
after your heart.
See how you’ve
been hurt,
just trying to
get near it?
That’s what happens
to the people
who try and
love you.”
I looked at the nest again,
sturdy and strong,
yet yielding to
the winds of change.
The nest, so plain,
it could blend in
with the background
had the robin chose to hide it.
Instead, it sat
proudly over my doorway,
welcoming everyone in
but using
the rough edges
to protect
its priceless contents
from those who would do harm.
“You can get close,”
she told me,
“with care
and gentleness.”
I moved closer
enough to feel
the joy of a life
well loved.
The robin
sang her
song
in triumph.
©2014 Cherie Burbach, My Soul Is From a Different Place
