As night-black slowly lightened to
dawn-gray outside my bedroom window,
the birds began their aerial symphony
and I listened with drowsy pleasure
to the calls flung back and forth.
Some full-throated, some staccato,
some warbling and flutey–
released as freely as the
first morning in Eden.
The glorious stereophonic sounds
filled the air for nearly half an hour,
then gradually tapered off.
Morning had arrived.
The birds had sung it into existence.
A Favorite QuoteLife is really simple but we insist on making it complicated. ~ Confucius