The Sermon of the Birds
I was clearing thirty or forty acres once
Out in the western range near Nightcap Mountain.
And as I was working, I heard a gathering of the crows
Singing out in a jungle gully. Their clamorous cries
Drawed the attention of all the other birds.
Jackass and butcher-bird, soldier-bird, sparrow-bird,
Scrub-robin, magpie, and the black and white cockatoo,
They all flew down to the crows in the jungle-gully.
And I followed after their clamour, and in the midst
Of all the splendid excitement of the birds
I heard one feller was singing above them all.
It was the lyre-bird, the mimic of all the scrub,
And they held this beautiful sermon or half an hour.
The birds would stop and listen a while but still
That beautiful voice, the lyre-bird, would keep on singing
And draw then and join them all to a chorus again.
And as I stood there and listened, the Scriptures was
Hitting me all the time. The sermon seemed
Like the prophecy when Christ shall come and summon
The birds, the valleys, the hills, the mountains and the ocean
To sing in praise of the grace and the reckoning day,
And the beauty of earth in the splendour that He crated.
And I went back and told my people of what I had seen,
And the sermon of praise I heard in the mountain range.
poem by Roland Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Singing Birds Are Endangered Species!
Singing bird's songs
enjoyed,
wonderful melody, wonderful words,
Rhapsodical Sometimes,
More often romantic!
A power hungry,
another powerful
both listen a while,
They want the bird to sing for them!
Now the bird has to stop singing,
Or should think of flying far away!
Power hungry will kill
or powerful will,
Singing bird ability of throat
Is its own enemy,
Two hands are ready to squeeze,
Two blades ready to cut,
Singing bird's throat often
squeezed,
Several died,
not even found in history,
they fear even that bird's story!
For it sings only truth,
Singing birds throat is cut,
Because it can't keep its mouth shut!
Poor bird! Its talent,
gifted voice became
its own enemy,
Not even they are listed
Though singing birds are endangered species!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Bird, Golden Bird.
A tired green bird flew a very long journey,
Came to a stop in a beautiful valley.
There were many birds of all colours singing and playing,
Among them he saw a beautiful golden bird,
Her feathers shining in the bright sunshine,
And her voice echoed melodiously.
Within a short time the green and golden birds were close friends,
They knew each other deeply by heart,
Passing the days, flying from valley to valley,
And resting from tree to tree.
Then one sad day, golden bird must return,
She too had flown from across the vast ocean,
Even though it broke the green bird's heart,
But he was willing to let go, and before she left, .. he asked;
Golden bird, have I full-filled my promises to you?
That I would never hurt you,
That I would protect you with my life,
That I would share my provisions with you,
That I would make you happy and smiling always!
Is there any single word to describe all these?
Golden bird,
I will pray for your lasting happiness,
I will never forget your overflowing kindness,
You have nested permanently in my heart…and lastly,
I dream for us to be able to fly together again,
in unimaginable beautiful green heaven!
poem by Desert Life
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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73
i have nothing to ask of you
or of myself
i have been here and have slept on the coolness of grasses
and i have seen the rainbow all complete with its array of colors
i heard the black bird sing
and so is that white bird on the roof of my house
doves and crows
and cars and wheelbarrows
i have loved and lost and loved and won
there is nothing to prove there is nothing to show
time tells us in the dusk that it will end somewhere someday
like a fortuneteller covering her head with a black headdress
i am not awed and neither i ask
i am not curious anymore
i listed to the flow of the river
it is the music to my ear
i am fed up with all these big and little things in my palms
let them all be birds and butterflies
let them all fly away and let them all not come back
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird-Magic
Where no birds breathe, bird-magic breathes
Bird-beauty, bird-spirit, bird-splendour,
And brings where no bird wings,
Wing-beats that woo me to wonder.
What do I want when a woman can warm
Bird-magic from her bosom, her womanly arms?
Her lips that are petals, her thighs that are trees,
Boughful with blossoms of softness and ease?
What is the liquid that lingers with love
In her voice? Is the music that hangs in her eyes?
The dewdrop.that dangles from finger-tip touch?
The mellifluous magic that moves me so much?
This is no bird-magic:
This is woman, who with a sweep of her hair
Sends birds bursting to wings in the air.
This is woman, whose frown
Droops dark feathers down.
This is woman; her smile, her kiss, her holding in arms,
Hold more bliss for me than bird-charms.
poem by Tan Pratonix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caged
People began bidding for a confined bird on a ledge
A poor bird in a iron cage.
No one knows this birds age.
It was the pleasing color of sage.
The sea was in a constant rage.
Everyone was afraid of standing near the outside stage.
The bird went to the highest bidder for a high price.
The auctionor asked him what he was going to do with the bird?
The owner of the bird set it free.
So it could fly from tree to tree.
The bird said thank you by singing its wild glee.
This reminds me of how God can set a mans souls free.
Thank you God for setting my soul free.
Divine Bird
i would skp the best musical concert
to listen one more time to this morning bird
it makes me regret for not having been
a bird watcher and getting to know the name
of every bird and how every bird makes sure
they shine their best in voice rather than feathers
for feathers are just for a show of form but the
voice how well they have cultivated themselves
with the bountiful freedoms strewn below their wings
it was only two mornings ago, i first heard him
sing in among the many trees lining the boulevard
outside my condominium, the Crescent Court
the enchanting haunting notes of his song shocked
me into wondering whether it was really a bird that
sang those pristine notes, notes that seemed to have
streamed out of the sacred sanctum of God, so many
diverse notes, so well handled, they sounded
like a song written by the Divine for one special bird
one most holy entree to the dawn of a new day
i prayed to the Divine to allow me hear that bird
again, a bird that has sung his way into my my poem,
a bird probably from another realm where birds could
understand the workings of the heavens better than men
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birdsong
The morning air suddenly comes alive,
With beautiful birdsong, in bursts of five.
Sometimes, there are bursts of seven or six,
To add a dash of variety, to the musical mix.
From other birds, there is no competition;
To sing the best, this bird is on a mission.
He sings his song loudly, and crystal clear;
Sat way up high in the tree, he feels no fear.
To his heart’s content, the little bird sings;
Joy, to nearby shoppers, his sweet song brings.
I hear the shrill trill of a nearby burglar alarm;
Compared to the bird’s trill, it holds no charm.
Hearing his call, really brightens up my day,
As I pass him by, and go steadily on my way.
Some people are too busy to notice his call;
Upon their deaf ears, his pretty voice falls.
In the natural world, there’s beauty to be found;
You need only to listen, and look all around.
If you just take your time; if you do not rush,
You will find beauty aplenty in the relative hush.
Listen to the birds singing, way up in the trees;
Their voices are carried upon the winter breeze.
By such sights and sounds, you will be thrilled;
With nature’s beauty, your senses will be filled.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Baby Bird
Is it true birds fly south for the winter
Wish i was a bird for just one day
I would fly to and perch on your window
My baby bird flew away
I love you my baby bird
But i had to set you free
I watched you glide with the wind high above the trees
Maybe i could be a boat and sail to your shore
I miss my baby bird
So next winter i will move south
I will look for you in the sky
You are no longer a baby bird as you have grown
Do you now have baby birds of your own
I long to see you again my baby bird my best friend
I wish i was a bird for just one day
I would sore sore so high
Wishing is all i can do for now
How is my baby bird
Do you miss me for i miss you
Bye my baby but not goodbye
T-birds
Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email [email protected])
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.
T-bird, rule the world.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun born again.
Oh I love my t-bird, t-bird.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bird
(9/15/12)
I saw a bird perched on a tree
I looked at him and he looked at me.
The strangest bird that I ever did see
He had a tail about four inches long
With that body it did not belong.
He had a body smaller than a sparrow
With a beak long and narrow.
He made a sound that I never heard
Not like one you'd hear from a bird.
It was not like the sounds of a love bird
Canary, or cockatoo, but a soft whistle
Which filled the air, and with all
Living things it wanted to share.
It was like a hypnotic sound
And turned my head completely around.
His soft whistling cry was like
A call to the wild
Brought flocks of birds
Of every color and style.
Landing on every branch of the tree
And left no empty space that I could see.
This was the most beautiful sight that
I had ever saw, and I knew
I will see it no more.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Beautiful Bird
You say that I am beautiful, but you have
Me locked up in this cage, every time I sing
My voice is full of rage.
If you truly loved me you would let me go
But you keep me locked up for all your friends to show.
I am not a show bird for you to put on display
I am a free spirit, and I have to go my way.
how can you keep me, when I don’t want to stay.
Open up this door and let me fly away.
You also are a beautiful bird and that I can see
So why don’t you join me and we both will be free.
Two free spirits flying high in the sky
singing songs of love as we go flying by.
Let the world see us soaring like eagles
High above the ground
We are so much in love that
you can not hear our sounds.
We are the beautiful birds that
Touch the human soul
We are the wonders that forever
You want to hold.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If People Where More Like Birds
Birds bring you love and light,
They are happy to fly around you day and night,
If people were more like birds,
There would be only loving words.
Yes, birds are as happy as can be,
Singing praise of Mother Earth joyfully
while flying from tree to tree.
How nice it would be if everyone was more
like a bird so happy and carefree and loving
Mother Earth Dearly.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If People Where More Like Birds
Birds bring you love and light,
They are happy to fly around you day and night,
If people were more like birds,
There would be only loving words.
Yes, birds are as happy as can be,
Singing praise of Mother Earth joyfully
while flying from tree to tree.
How nice it would be if everyone was more
like a bird so happy and carefree and loving
Mother Earth Dearly.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby Bird
I helped a baby bird live,
I found him on the ground,
Almost dead,
Most profound.
He grew to be a fledgling,
The most dangerous time of all,
He drowned in a pool of water,
I never heard him call.
The death was more cathartic
Than any play I've read,
More religious than any sermon I've heard,
Because he was real, he tried so hard,
And he was just a baby bird.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful Bird
I once found a beautiful bird
Upon my ground all battered and hurt
And I mended its wing
And I taught it how to sing
As time passed on
My beautiful bird
There came a song
That I had never heard
Now it was a haunting melody
And she played it just for me
So don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That she don't find love everyday
Don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That you don't find love every day
I once found a beautiful bird
Upon my ground all battered and hurt
Now I mended its wing
And I taught it how to sing
So don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That she don't find love everyday
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Bird
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a Museum
I
Here's the mould of a musical bird long passed from light,
Which over the earth before man came was winging;
There's a contralto voice I heard last night,
That lodges with me still in its sweet singing.
II
Such a dream is Time that the coo of this ancient bird
Has perished not, but is blent, or will be blending
Mid visionless wilds of space with the voice that I heard,
In the full-fuged song of the universe unending.
poem by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Broken Soldier
The broken soldier sings and whistles day to dark;
He's but the remnant of a man, maimed and half-blind,
But the soul they could not harm goes singing like the lark,
Like the incarnate Joy that will not be confined.
The Lady at the Hall has given him a light task,
He works in the gardens as busy as a bee;
One hand is but a stump and his face a pitted mask;
The gay soul goes singing like a bird set free.
Whistling and singing like a linnet on wings;
The others stop to listen, leaning on the spade,
Whole men and comely, they fret at little things.
The soul of him's singing like a thrush in a glade.
Hither and thither, hopping, like Robin on the grass,
The soul in the broken man is beautiful and brave;
And while he weeds the pansies and the bright hours pass
The bird caught in the cage whistles its joyous stave.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Three Black Birds High Up In The Air
three black birds high
up in the air
flying
playing this early morning
on their
swift wings
i heard a single shot from the
hill and one black bird fell
the other two birds continue
to fly away
so frightened
they continue flying away
from that hill
a man with a brown cap emerges
and picks a dead black bird
on the rocky ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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