Читать книгу The Secret Flower - Jane Tyson Clement - Страница 2

BIRD ON THE BARE BRANCH

Bird on the bare branch,

flinging your frail song

on the bleak air,

tenuous and brave –

like love in a bleak world,

and, like love,

pierced

with everlastingness.

O praise

that we too

may be struck through with light,

may shatter the barren cold

with pure melody

and sing

for Thy sake

till the hills are lit with love

and the deserts come to bloom.

j.t.c.