In all the silent woodland nothing moved
nor did the man within the sheltering pines.
He waited with expectant hope until
a tiny bird flew close. He saw the lines
of white that streaked its tiny head, and it,
confiding, bent to see the man so still--
so man watched bird and bird in turn watched him.
Unbidden then, soft notes from mouth and bill
rang through the bush--a magical duet
of man and pardalote, till each one paused . . .
perhaps in wonder at the splendid sound.
The man stood stunned, in awe of what he'd caused.
Remembering, he knows when man and bird
sang that duet, a miracle occurred.
Judie Peet March
July, 2000
"The bird in this poem . . . the Yellow-rumped Pardalote . . . . is a particularly engaging and confiding little bird that often shows an interest in its observer, coming to within an arm's reach, at head-height. The event did happen; as the observer called to draw the pardalote closer, the bird too began to call . . . to the surprise of both."
