When Tiny Hearts Their Songs Do Sing

WHEN TINY HEARTS THEIR SONGS DO SING

From Albion's woodland perches,
We flock astride a misting, faint and, yet, thus aided
We&;#8230;&;#8230;..do
GLIDE!

Wire-like, our clawed members do, somehow, claim these stony, cold
spaces shaped to some purpose by the creatures who, by turns are
Bloody&;#8230;&;#8230;..and kind;

No matter&;#8230;&;#8230;vanish-ed be they upon our arrival as if
by some Greater Hand they be stayed till We have done with our
meanderings midst their unwarm, wondrous
places------------------------full of loops and spires and small suns
of dull issuance, as though placed there for fear of each other, sure
not to summon our Song.

And, yet, there are envious islands of woodhaven where some do lay near
to Mother's bosom&;#8230;&;#8230;..though, sadly, somehow, not by
choosing;
Most are perched nearer to our bowers and nests, flocking to forsake
their sterile woodless, though high, perches.

As for these wings, there is one such perch, bright and stately colored
of dark autumnal leaves where none such creature dwells save for a time
of moving its beaklike opening, alone; often, have We seen, frenzied
with members flailing and akimbo.

Perhaps, it must be, that weary from so great toil, it forgets its
place and must find another; so it has been storied by our brother the
Raven-----------------------tell they of our place in their Great
leaf-ed Book, and of Creators' provision for the wing-ed!

So sad to dwell, then, aground, it must needs hear our songs, authored
by the wind's Wind that carries them freely.

Let us sing, then, for the Great Above&;#8230;&;#8230;and for it,
Man, recalling it to the wooden places now re-placed by its Places,
wondrous they------but they are its, not those which echo still our
constant songs though they be lofty, geometric&;#8230;&;#8230;.it
is into such a Sky-shaped nest they are seen to bow their heads and
travel peaceably to and fro, in search of our eternal Song!

Sing, then, sing out, larking Larks, amid the mist which paints its
places with longing at this, our appointed hour.