Instinctive.
Stars like sparks splutter to bed
as birds catch fire.
Smut-red lips of sultry sun kiss
mouldering night
and with dawn\'s tinted shimmer
blue high-light\'s sky.
Throat of thrush flintily strikes
more trilled intent,
while edge of new day\'s inciting
makes eye-sight bent
on shining explosion to electrify
flight for one insect
and I just stare quietly admiring
wings in strident zest
as self unfed searchers must try
to find nourishment
if needy nestlings are to survive.
Day\'s birth reminds
all early bird risers of urges felt
by instinctive signs.