BIRDS

I love the happy ones . . . the birds
who never do resort to words . . .
but with each breath, drop crystal notes . . .
tireless crescendos from their throats!

They do not buy commodities
Are not concerned with oddities . . .
They pass their time in grateful praise . . .
Are thankful for the many ways . . .
their faith preserves, sustaining them . . .
through heavy storm or windy whim.

I love the turn and twist and trill
of every bird upon the hill !
They sing hosannahs, though unheard . . .
with faith more eloquent than word . . .
In stormy weather, a bird's refrain
is courage singing in the rain!