Birdsong
Birdsong
Somewhere in the dark trees
small birds sing their pre-dawn songs
bathed in private moonbeams.
O little ones, why do you not give yourselves
up to sleep?
Whom do you glorify in the stillness of night
when neither food nor activity
press upon you?
To Whom do you sing your ecstatic ballads
and why such delicate notes,
such plaintive tunes?
Have you a tryst with the Invisible?
Some unseen Hand has woken me at this hour.
If I should wait here in a pool of moonlight,
singing in my innermost heart,
shall I see Him too?
– Vidagdha Bennett.
——-
Return to the August 1999 index page
