Walking in the cool but
warming evening breeze
I can hear the tiny
wisps of bird feathers,
slightly touching,
twittering in tall pines.
In passing,
I find the sound enchanting
as though from heavenly angels
with flapping wings.
I see the birds now scatter as I walk near.
The "trees of the field shall clap
their hands"
in praise of little birds,
with twittering wings,
giving to them
a repository for tired wings.
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 8