Or
are they saying "Good
Morning"
As
their family and friends
pass by the way.
Are
they calling out to other
birds
To
say, here's food a plenty
As
their little voices softly echo
To
the distant flock of many.
Soon
their chirping seems to stop
There's
silence in the air
They
must have flown away
So
free without care.
Have
you ever wondered
A
line or a verse of their sweet
song
The
value of their hidden treasure
For
we none can sing along.
Sometimes
there's a distinction
In
their midst we hear a
sorrowful song
In
the shadow of their merriment
As
though something has gone wrong.
An
amazement of God's creation
A
beauty so ultimately rare
Vivid
colors beyond comparison
With
the flight of wings so fair.
So
often they lightly perch
Upon
the tree's shaky limb
To
sing their melodious song
Only
known to God and them.
Danna
Marie Robinette
3~5~09
E-Mail
All
Rights Reserved
Matthew
6:26 Behold the fowls of the
air; for they sow not,
neither
do they reap, nor gather into
barns; yet your heavenly
Father
feedeth them. Are ye not
much better than they?
