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I buried my head deep inside the soft warm blankets
And prayed the alarm clock would not find its voice.
The weight of too many yesterdays pushed me further inside my bedroom sanctuary,
And I curled far, far inside the comforting pillowed cave.
I waited in the darkness to fall safely asleep again...
To bury myself in the quiet and the dark...
And, then, a little snow-capped bird hopped to my frosted window to peer inside.
His soothing song brought me out of hiding
And his carefree pecking at the scattered seeds made me crawl up to the sill to watch.
His eyes were bright...What did he see that I did not?
His call was clear...What song was his and not yet mine?
His hope was eager and his spirit gay...Where would his journey lead? And, could I not go along?
No care encompassed his little feathered body, warm, though snow fell and early winds blew...
His voice was crystal clear and he spoke to me...
Of hope and faith and promise...
Of prayers asked and guidance given
Of watching, reaching, waiting
Of the wisdom of the past and the wonder of tomorrow...
He sang to me of the glow of today...
And the splendor of what is yet to be.
Copyright 2000, Susan D. Brozenec |
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