They come to sit on branch and sing
By multicolored feathered wing
And ’tis more than song they bring
They are to wounded soul a sling.
It is for those who take the time
To pause and listen to the rime
Of something more than just sublime
And let it settle on the mind
To find there is within a life
A counterbalance to the strife
Unlike the march to drum and fife
That is in waking soul so rife.
So hearken when the song appears
Within the mind beyond the ears
For it can ease the doubts and fears
While adding moments to the years.
© 2016 – 2017, Michael Bahm. All rights reserved.