Songbird

Message from a bird

Every soul must live, every soul must die.
Nothing lasts forever, even creation withers by.
Everything created will come to some forsaken end.
Even time and space will not forever bend.

Before this was the dark, so silent and so still,
Then suddenly explosive stars did sing, exploding with a will.
A universe to make its mark, creating sands of time,
That deepened dirt under our feet and those that stood behind.

upon the beach, upon the shore, resting on the silver wings of birds that fly.
And flutter in a marble sky, discovered, risking flight to find.
Their morning worm that wiggles down their throats,
with toothless smiles, entrapping them to soar and stroke,
As faltering in the breezes of ageless seasons, and the rising suns of many days.

A million miles they flew, embracing beauty as they do.
A million songs, they sang with every day anew.
And every story told that's true, sprang from chartered beaked lips,
Within the eyes of eagles as their talons grip.

Delivered to this space, above, beyond, a grand adventure hence they went.
And built for them a church, with oaken wooden pews to pray upon.
And words that they pretend, have meaning in their loss.
Have praise for many wicked and sinners that to Hell are tossed.

For if a soul to save, once it sinks into its grave.
Is worth a million singing birds for ears to hear and hearts to have.
A blissful light in darkest nights, for innocence so near.
And shooting stars will all align and vastly spread their fiery wings,
And join the birds whose songs they sing.
That bring to me the little things. That make this short existence,
As we give death its greatest of resistance, and float away eternal.
On the note of a million songs, sung by birds and stars fraternal.