The Blackbird

Dear reader, it’s a while since my last communication with my beloved readers and world-wide flock. In this time of global warming and ecological concern for disappearing flora and fauna all over the world, I offer you this little poem and painting from my new collection of poems (look up my collection Poems from Heartlands already published). I think protecting the earth as the Lord’s creation is a great spiritual work for the good of humanity and especially the children who come after us and need that heritage.

The Blackbird

I present, as an ecological godly icon, my blackbird of song.

In an era of global warming and endangered flora and fauna,

Happily, he knows nothing of human cruelty or wrong.

He just lives and sings and says to be is enough:

“I just am what I was created to be,

Black and wild, happy and free, with no tortured mind;

I just soar in the sky, feed, and faithfully propagate my kind”.

I present, amid plastic seas, my blackbird of delight,

Though black he is a being of light, not night.

He says “to be is to sing and praise the creator

Who made me to be just one notable part

Of life’s glorious tapestry of bird and beast art”.

Yes, every bird is a major master craft

From the incomparable art studio of the Lord,

A study in black, a great work still in progress,

A shining word in the epic poem of the universe.

I sketch for you my blackbird of truth,

The truth that everything is true to its own being,

And has unique talents like the blackbird’s one of singing,

To bring joy to nature lovers who love to walk in the woods,

Or pause on a country-path jog to to enjoy his joyous flood

Of melody, for there is a rare and pure goodness in his singing,

In his dignified bearing and in his ringing affirmation of being.

Lets be a nurturer not a destroyer of such a rare work of art,

Lest we sow desolation at life’s glossy black yet fair white heart.

Sure he seems cruel in killing and devouring slugs and snails.

But there is no animosity in that, its part of an ecological balance

Built into the earth and into human life in its procreative essence.

I color for you my blackbird of beauty, hopping on my lawn at dawn,

Cocking his head sideways to hear the worms coming up with loam.

Nearby his brown wife has their neat home made of twigs and moss,

Where she incubates dutifully a clutch of four sky-blue spotted eggs;

The next generation of black and brown birds she fasts to allow to be,  

Doing her motherly duty for the future of the world, and you and me.