This
week I felt like weeping when a big bird snatched up a Baby bird, for whatever
purpose, out of my garden.
It’s
natural I suppose, like the cry of an infant. There was no
Call
from other birds, of danger—hidden in the Garden.
In
life I can praise so many things. The loss of the baby bird
Didn’t
feel right to me—I could have saved him, or perhaps she.
Why
didn’t I? I was too busy taking a movie: in my delight, I lost sight, of a
predator nearby.
Note: Inspired by the writings of Rumi, with a little influence on
stanza structure. The author would like
to express, one can easily lose in his or her daily life, sight of their
relationship with Christ, just as easily as taking your eyes off the bird. #3993 (3-29-2013)