These images caught my eye today — the sun climbing higher, the trees reaching upward, and the birds carving Bach’s Cello music through the air. They became the foundation of the poem below.



Sun, Trees, and Birds
Like a stab in the dark,
Where do I start
Is the sun my spark,
Or the trees in the shady park
Talking to the larks
Is my trademark
There below the sun’s warm arc,
And above the trees’ ritual bark
I hear the birds’ melodious hark,
Nature’s own cellist playing Bach
Ivor Steven © May 2026


























