Little mother junco knows a secret. The tilt of her head outside the kitchen window tells me so. She knows the place where heaven and earth meet, somewhere in the branches of a great tree. There she will build her nest, and lay her treasures to rest.
She has found a seed. The one that falls into the earth and dies. And it will be her kingdom.
She has a dark eye for the small things, little mother junco.
And how she will sing on the day of new birth, when the pale blue egg breaks open like a morning sky to welcome the sun!
Until then, she laughs at the snow, her faith the evidence of things unseen, and her secret keeps her warm.