In the tree a bird began to sing
Urging the day to take its hold
And warm her home and tiny nestling
Before he succumbed to the cold.
And there I sat beneath the tree
Watching this bird in song
I saw that it was better than me
Parental, nurturing, strong.
But then the bird flew from its home
And left a feather drifting to the ground
And me, sat there beneath, alone,
And then I saw it, and heard that sound.
And then the sun fell down and it was cold
And the rain stopped, and how they missed the rain,
And that was it, my life, and I was old -
I couldn't part the clouds, I never saw the sun again.