The crows, pigeons, sparrows and thrushes sing
each gives the other permission to sing
they know the music they know the song
that they sing everyday in a sequence
the arrangement is written in response
to itself through the music of the world
nothing is inert when it is resting
silence restored is silent redemption
the bird does not sing when forced to sing
it is not beckoned to go wandering
but migrates with the seasons to return
the bird is more constant than anything
humanly devised, anticipated,
or accidentally devised by fate.
Beautiful poem edith :)
ReplyDeleteaw, thanks Christopher!. I just saw your comment. take care!
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