Surviving the Storm

For some minutes, I watched this great tit, several blue tits and a robin as they wrestled with the wind and rain in order to eat. (If I'm not mistaken, each needs to eat its own body-weight in food every day.) If these tiny, vulnerable creatures can survive by adapting to changes in their environment, so can we. 

There are changes, that can't be escaped,
but nobody's died; no-one's raped.
It's a journal, a platform
of post-share-and-chat form,
however it's differently-shaped.

It is human to fret over change,
when familiar things become strange,
but it's people who natter
with friends; they're who matter,
so let's keep our full blipping range.

With a photo, a joke or a 'pome'
once again, it will seem like our home.
You may not feel like skipping,
but don't stop your blipping ...

I don't want to be here on my own!

poem © Celia Warren 2015