Bird Songs

When I hear it it’s music to my ears
When I open the window their chirps grow
It may not be the same for all, my dears
Like ocean water their songs flow

Then I close my eyes and listen closely
Concentrated like students in lecture
Pollution in the ocean growing grossly
I feel like I am in literature

Then winter comes and they fly fly away
Their slow songs are a beautiful blessing
Now my surroundings have nothing to say
It’s their way of confessing, I’m guessing

Death is near. Let us hear the silent tear.
Before he appeared, we knew no fear, dear