Chirp

Chirp

In the hush of early dawn,
a feathered note takes flight,
a soft, bright chirp that lifts the mist
and paints the garden light.

It threads through leaf and hedgerow,
a tiny silver thread,
each trill a whispered promise
that spring is waking, widespread.

The sparrows share their chorus,
the robins join in kind,
their music weaves a tapestry
of hope we humbly find.

So let us pause, and listen close,
to every modest trill,
for in a chirp lies quiet joy,
a song that time can’t still.