So much of life we all pass by
With heedless ear and careless eye.
Bent with our cares, we plod along,
Blind to the beauty, deaf to the song.
But moments there are when we pause to rest
And turn our eyes from the goal's far crest.
We become aware of the wayside flowers,
And sense God's hand in this world of ours.
The sun flecks gold through the sheltering trees,
And we shoulder our burdens with twice the ease.
Peace and contentment and a world that sings
The moment of true awareness brings.
I think, to a poet, the human community is like the community of birds to a bird, singing to each other. Love is one of the reasons we are singing to one another, love of language itself, love of sound, love of singing itself, and love of the other birds.