Song

small movement on the branch
and the bird which sung all night long
went away

for the long dark hours
i've listened to her voice
full of softness and yearning
full of grace and purity
full of life and longing
full of fullness
and wondered

if my soul were a bird
would it sing so beautifully
as the little bird on the tree near my window
or would it be silent
silent as the sun in the morning

or would my song be always the same
from one tone woven
perhaps joyful
perhaps
sad..

i didn't know..
but when the bird left
my soul bowed to hers
with thankfulness..