The Birds Song
The birds sing from a tree-top high, from an in flight
Perch as they survey the sky.
They sing to ears reluctant to listen unwilling to hear
And just seem not to care.
Their melodies haunt, lyrics touch an anxious soul.
They sing of fluorocarbons, fossil fuels and ozone
Holes that threaten the sanctuary of a species whole
The birds sing of when frogs had four legs not three
Or six. Dolly was no sheep.
Cows grazed in pastures green and wide unaware
Of estrogen and pesticide.
They sing of the consequence of drought, where
Disease reigns.
And in the rising heat of day ecosystems fade away
As waters rise, unable to be kept at bay.
They sing of times when acid rains charred not a
Forest and left the earth to bake.
Cancer lived in a hemisphere north and in a house of
Astral land and chemotherapy was not a word they
Sang.
They sing of when wetlands thrived, they and their
Friends found it easy to survive.
And April showers brought bouquets of May flowers
And raindrops kissed a blooming petal.
The birds sing that this planet called home, be freed
From the shackles of inhumanity.
And Mother Nature covered in a cloth of grief listens
To The Birds Song
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