Penned when living in New Delhi

A bird sat at my window sill
“Sweet Sweet” he seemed to say,
“Sweet is my life since the Father cares
“And feeds me everyday.”

The wise old bird, his head held high
Tweeted shrill and clear,
“When I stumble and fall, the Father knows,
“I’m precious, loved and dear.”

You remind me bird, to you my thanks,
Of the Father’s loving ways–
Of more value am I than you,
Can I forget His grace?

The bird, his purpose over now,
As ‘Thank You Lord . . .” I prayed,
His ‘Amen’ was a joyous tweet
As he took off and flew away.

-n- 15 October 1988

[Disclaimer: I am not proud of most of the “poetry” that I have penned in my lifetime. I am no poet, but most of these poems were written at times when prose could not have provided the necessary expression and release of emotion. My poems are as important to me as singing may to be to someone who is not endowed with a singing voice—it justifiably fulfills a need. Thus, although not primarily meant for the consumption of the wider audience, it has a place in my blog, which as I have mentioned before also functions as a platform for my own retrieval and use.]