Birdsong

Mar 17, 2024

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

If there are no birds in Heaven,
I don’t want to go.
What good would the world be-
Without an avian ditty, tune, or soprano?

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Neither cardinal’s laser-gun trill,
Nor chickadees on the sill.
No muted crankings of homebound geese,
Or sparrow’s susurrations soft like fleece,

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Naught the robin’s singsong whistle,
Or mourning doves weeping in the thistle.
Nary a bluejay’s rasping or raven’s croaking cry,
Never again starling song to tumble down like water from on high.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Birdsong- such a precious, irreplaceable gift,
Enlivening mornings otherwise silent as falling snow.
If there are no birds in Heaven,
I don’t want to go.

The header image for this poem is a painting of a male and female Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) by John James Audubon.

While I was writing the poem this morning- in my backyard, surrounded by a boundless chorus of birdsong- a pair of cardinals flitted by not a foot and a half away from my face. This poem is dedicated to them. May their love be as beautiful and endless as their song.