Blackbird
There’s a blackbird
singing across
the still morning air,
her song ripples
in the moonlight,
a melody
of a summer stream,
wishing the dawn
was already there.
For it is deep
in the mid
of winter,
the snow drifts,
high upon
the garden wall,
the skies hidden
by fog and banks
of rolling cloud,
her wings still folded,
waiting for dawn
her springtime call.
And for just a moment,
a mere fragment
of time,
the wind whispers
through trees,
the dune like drifts
the settling silence
of January snow,
as one blackbird sings,
another answers,
the day awakens,
shivers and wonders,
as the sun lifts
the heavens smile
for only the blackbird
can awaken
the dawn’s delight
and heavenly
glow.
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p1964km@googlemail.com
