Saturday, June 30, 2012

Eulogy for a Newborn Bird

*A somber luc bat poem for a young bird fallen from its nest...and yet, the writer who penned this poem points out that even though the bird's life was cut short, it was not in vain...*


The child sat, clinging
To a voice once singing, but death
Had silenced its warm breath,
The fate of all MacBeths, a bird
Newly born, its first word
A proud cry to be heard, spilling
Down from the tree, trilling,
But no feathers filling its wings
Not knowing Death’s sharp stings,
No knowledge of such things, no blue
Sky to reach, hold on to,
Just black earth welcomes you, small one,
To be found by a son
Small as well, made to run and play
But now he sits and prays
That there is still a way: Awake!
This must be a mistake,
Are we born just to break, fall, die,
And anger fills his eye
But his mother says, “My young boy,
Don’t let anger take joy, be sad,
Yes, but do not be mad
That this small creature had the chance
To have Life’s fleeting glance,
And for one moment, danced with song
Knowing good, never wrong
He had life, which some long for, yet
Never have, never get.”
And the boy, still upset but now
Understanding just how
Precious time is, he bowed down low
Into the ground he sewed
The bird, never to grow, but died
Never walked, never flied
But felt the joy inside, the depth
That makes worth every breath.

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