Red Bird
Red Bird
In a small wooded backyard
a red bird sits upon a tree’s branch
singing a song,
the same one she sings each day
yet, she sings as if she
has just discovered her voice…
More than a thousand miles away,
in a secret garden, a red bird
sits on a branch
amongst the flowers…
She sings a song, the same
one she sings each day she visits,
and the blossoms unfold
upon hearing her sweet refrain
No matter the distance, the miles
that separate the beliefs
we hold or the ways we believe,
are the only truths…
No matter the color, black or yellow,
red or white
No matter the gender, the religion or
political stance
No matter poor or oppressed,
rich or lacking for nothing
The red bird sings,
and sings if for nothing else,
because it can
…there are those who stop
to ‘listen’
they hear the song each day and
recognize the music as if just written
for the first time and sung with a
love~~~passionate, pure and whole
The song plays on in that mysterious
dwelling ‘within’ and no matter
how misunderstood
The red bird’s song invites each of us
to find our branch
and ‘sing’ for the ‘one’ who sits
waiting, listening for our song!
Ahhh……I am going now to the bakyard to listen for my red birds….and let them teach me how to sing…..and how to listen! Thank you
Love the line: red bird sings as if she
has just discovered her voice…
And the red bird photo is magnificent.
I recently stopped in my hurried New York tracks to appreciate the cardinal’s color and song. And now thanks to your poem, I’ll have more reason to love this bird and its message for me. Happy Spring, Sandy!