Monday, June 2, 2014


The sparrow stands upon the fence, 
his fight for survival is intense.
Think not that he merely flits around
filling the air with lovely sound.

This bird's every sense is heightened
By each nearby movement he is frightened.
That cat, yon hawk, the monster with machine in hand
Could any one bring his life to end.

Poor bird.  And he must find insect or seed
He is required to fulfill every need.
And that not of himself alone
Nestlings await him there at home

With open mouth and unseemly squawk.
Oh, thinks he, could I only talk
I'd lecture the Maker of this universe.
No, wait, I would doubtless make it worse.

Oh, look! A cricket there!
Snatch it now, say a prayer.
"For what we are about to receive
Make us truly grateful."


Vee said...

Great poem!

Yes, lecturing the maker would no doubt make things worse. Maybe that's what makes people things worse.

Grace said...

I don't come from a background where a blessing is said before meals but the best one I ever heard was from the Pastor of my church - "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. Yaaay God!"

vanilla said...

Vee, I think that line harks back to a conversation I had in which I stated that we would have to answer to God one day, and the person to whom I was talking responded, "He's going to have a lot to answer to me for." Made the hair on my nape stand up. Perhaps I was not using the best approach to evangelism.

Grace, that is a good one. I have a stepson who uses it, but ends with "Yea! Rah! Jesus."

Shelly said...

Ahhh- what a great poem to read in the morning!

vanilla said...

Shelly, it makes me happy that you found pleasure in the verses ona beautiful morning.