A Little Bird
While walking through a field one day, and singing as I went,
I was praising God for mercy in the Son that He had sent.
Then I stepped upon a thorn, and in my pain I quit my praise.
As my mouth was filled with cursing, and my heart with rage ablaze.
Then I stumbled for the thorn still sunk into my throbbing heel,
and I scraped my hands and knees; this causing me more pain to feel.
As the swearing, the profanity, kept spewing from my lip,
I could not contain my anger or regain a solid grip.
Nearby, there perched a little bird upon a barbed wire fence.
Twas watching with delight to see me losing all my sense.
For earlier he'd heard my song and thought it such a joke;
he, laughing at my madness, laughed so hard it made him choke.
He then took flight from place to place, that all should come to know
about this man who sang of grace, but came to sudden woe.
He published, far and wide, what he had seen and what he'd heard.
O' christian, when you sin be sure to think about this bird.
The little bird who lands upon an ear to tell the tale
of man redeemed who lives the same as those who've gone to hell.
That little bird will never understand the Savior's love
if saints below forget to praise their Maker up above.
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