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