Sing on, fair Mockingbird, sing on
And teach your lesson true.
Would to God that most of us
Could learn a lesson from you.

Yesterday, a gale surrounded
‘Til your wings faint held the breeze.
But today, you sing as though you dwelled
In Eden’s glory trees.

I see your nest upon the ground,
Your little one destruction,
And wonder you can sing at all.
But, there’s your song … perfection!

When trials come to me or mine,
Acceptance comes so slowly.
Grief, resentment, fear, dismay …
Make me feel so lowly.

But, here you are, noble troubadour!
Oh, yes.  I’ll listen, too.
For, my heart can hear your lyrics,
“He lives!  He’s coming soon!”

© by Joan Clifton Costner jody@ptsi.net