An Avian Commentary
Don’t listen to Ravens
Storm crows have a limited vocabulary
none noted for encouragement or solace
The one word raucous comment
repeated ever anon ‘nevermore’
Such a word incurs rancor
from the hearer to the bearer of such woe.
And it was the raven who fled from Noah
never circled back to inform with tidings:
the flood waters of Holy wrath
receded without his consent—
left the job to the silent but dependable dove
to check it out and communicate somehow.
Perhaps he overflew his own ability to return.
I’m not sure Mockingbirds
would be a greater source
of encouragement in their turn,
very giddy with their own parried phrases.
Songbirds are sweet to listen to
the chorus in the dusk and dawn
notes warble music to a listener’s ears.
No criticisms or witticisms
only uninterrupted melodies of their own praises.
The night Owl hoots and scowls.
The whippoorwill repeats his own fame.
Sparrows two for a penny
take part in the Master’s claim for attention.
He hears each varied peep, whistle, chirp.
And I listen for the strains of truth
above, beyond the choral avian voices
Hear tones of One not named ring
in song-like Word.