Mother's of All Species

It is the ending of a lovely day. The baby birds are causing Mom distress. I hear them peeping in the big oak tree. “Now hush yourselves”, their weary mother says. “We must be up to greet the early dawn. When God sets fire to all the eastern sky, Be there before the early worms are gone. Now quiet down, I’ll sing a lullaby.” Her sweet voice rises, lulling babes to sleep. All night sounds still to hear the lovely song. And from young birdlings not another peep; Their mother’s near to guard them all night long. By: Joyce Johnson