This Life Is For The Birds

Matthew 6:26 "Consider the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
 
I wanted to write a poem about birds.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the song of the Nightingale.
I wanted to write a poem that uses the lonely call of the Rain Crow at dusk.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the drumming of a Woodpecker on a tree in the not too distant woods.
I wanted to write a poem that records the mimicking of the Mockingbird atop a telephone pole.
I wanted to write a poem about the haunting "Whos!" of the Owl in the darkness of the night.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the ordinary chirping of common yardbirds on a sunny day.
I wanted to write a poem in honor of the honking Canada Geese returning to the winter pond.
And I wanted to write a poem about birds that fly away in formation migrating and how they somehow just know where to go, and how they are replaced by absence and silence.
But all I was able to write is a poem about the story of my life.