Joy Takes Wing

    If not for Grandma day with Ren, I might have missed the birds. I had noticed them, even just from the shadows where the sun touched the bedroom floor--birds, masses of them circling. But I would not have stayed outside to watch them if Ren had not been here, painting rocks with water by our fountain. Because I was with Ren, I didn't feel guilty wasting time watching birds. I always enjoy those times when they fly from tree to tree and speculate about who is in charge of the spectacle. Even after Ren left, I sat outside watching and wrote the following on my phone.               

Joy Takes Wing

With a fluttering of wings

like sheets snapping in the wind,

 the birds wheel from tree to tree.

 I, who watch them from below,

 wondering, would seek to know

 who tells them where

 and when to move?

 Savior, is it you?

 

 Whatever shelter there may be

 upon the branches of the tree

 lasts but a moment, then they flee.

 And though I do not understand

 the purpose in their hectic plan,

 I cannot tear myself away.

 Perhaps, Lord, nor can you.

  

Some, with scientific words

 like murmuration, say the birds

 are safer in great numbers.

 But most admit their ignorance

 of why sometimes birds choose to dance

 their noisy, aerial ballet.

 What would their Creator say?

 

 Perhaps, like me, He loves to see

 their high hopscotch from tree to tree

 just for His own enjoyment.

 For all His creatures here below,

 it gratifies God’s heart to know

 we delight in the world He made,

 and look up when we have the chance

 to watch joy take wing and dance.

 

10/18/23