The issue at hand is not if

we believe in God but

if we believe in calling. 

The matter at hand:

seeds.

What are they there for?

There is a tree on my back

And some birds in my yard

They are chirping and making me cry. 

There are tears on my face.

What are they there for?

There are roads here 

A front, an intersection of sorts and cars

Honking, so much noise. 

There is pain and shame and hope and desire. 

So much noise. There are streets 

and people who shout.

There is marching and cries.

The issue at hand is not if 

We are scared or hurt or desperate

But if we believe in calling. 

I shall call the birds, 

feed them seeds, 

water them, 

and keep them here – free 

if they’re willing to stay because I know 

Birds like to travel south

Birds like the heat and the fruits and the murmuring water

Birds have better places to go

I do not have better places to go

But if they want to stay here free with me

I shall keep them

And shelter them 

And feed them

And water them

Because I see no better use of these seeds and those tears

There are already so many trees in Finland

And trees need birds

And I need the chirping. 

I am leaving tomorrow for the South.

My parents’ say that there will always be a place for me there. My friends miss me. 

There is no place for me there. 

The issue at hand is not 

About making a racket.

It will scare the birds away.