Old man of a birdStands unsteady and knock-kneedWatching me with disapprovalYour white feathers thinning on top,Eyes small in your weathered face.I admire your willowy stance. You stare at me.I laugh at you.

A flower and a bird that matchWho but God would think up that?

There is a sound in colorThere is a sound in lightA sound in windA sound in rainA sound that makes us whole againA sound of angel wingsA sound of lifeGo watch a flower bloom and you will hear it yet.