Bird Song

Feathers as dull and plain
As any other,
She stands no chance
Against the blues and reds,
The many shades
Of beauty that bless
Such wondrous creatures, unlike her.

And her song–
So soft and light,
Left unheard
by the blowing wind,
the howling of city life.

It’s no wonder she sits
Perched like moss;
It’s no wonder
She has yet a day,
Where a love so sweet
Has swept her by,
Where a friend so kind
Has sung for her,
a kindness
bestowed upon her,

And yet bravely she sings,
Waiting patiently,
Knowing that there is more to life
Than a single tree,
And as its leaves wither
Leaving her lonely
And exposed,
She caresses its rough branches,
And builds a home
With its twigs and waits
For its green to blossom,
Once more.