Here’s a little bird by my window.
How he landed here I do not know.
I can’t understand why he paused from winging,
then a-lighted here upon my contemplative feeling
while I sip darjeeling.
Now as I don’t know why a caged bird would sing,
so do I not comprehend why some free bird should fling
himself against this glass invisible thing.
Now as I watch him here, while I am sitting,
and I do ponder on his fretful flitting,
I know not what fate my future life might bring
can’t foresee what stones some enemy might sling
nor anticipate what news some fateful bell will ring.
I don’t know what pesky thing
might attach itself to me to cling
to bet against my errant dealing,
or abscond my precious, hard-earned bling.
For all I know, someday Life may send me reeling;
I might even bang my head upon the ceiling,
like my bird friend at this window reeling.
But after a while, being a human being,
I’d certainly seek some healing,
Surely I would pray, even kneeling,
to shed my stubborn sins and fears, like onion peeling.
Unto merciful God I’ll someday be appealing;
T’is then I’ll beat my head upon some heavenly window,
when to eternity’s grand dwelling I will go.
Like this wacky bird with such stubborn sass,
I’ll knock my head on heaven’s glass.
Let me in.
Let me in!