Wednesday, April 22, 2009


The day I crawled out of my mother's shell and saw the sky and watched my dad go saiing by I knew I was born to fly. In our family nest way up high in a tree all we birdlings chirped joyfully. We were blessed with wings and when we flap them up and down or hold them stiff, if the wind is on our tail we can swoop low and see how more fortunate we are than they who can walk and talk, but cannot fly.

We birdlings were soon to realize the wonder of the skies, the warmth of the sun, the glow of the midnight moon, the twinkle, twinkle song of the stars that sleep past noon and you have to be up close to hear their welcome tune. And on special nights the Man in the Moon will croon along with the twinkling tune, angels will strum their heavenly sound and the cherub children will cheer cheerfully.

But we, the birdlings of all kinds, and they, with minds superiour to ours, know more about the moon and stars than we mere birds could conceive. But have they ever heard the music of the sky or learned why God put humans so low and heaven so high and so many light years in between?


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