A Wild Bird Sings

Who can say what wild birds trill

Hidden in a thickets clutch;

I hear their harmonizing songs

Out of dreamers sight.

Perhaps the wild birds sing of hope

Perhaps of love or sorrow,

Each takes it’s quiet leave at dusk

To sing again tomorrow.

Dear harbingers upon the wing,

You gladden winters end;

You bring sweet trilling songs to me

To trumpet Spring around the bend.

Corrine Schlessel © June 2008