A little heart beats
it rhymes
and chimes
like a young cuckoo bird
hopping branch to branch
soaring past the trees
catching the gold of sunrise

In the gentle rustling of leaves
the cuckoo bird is lost
her ears strain to hear
the divine call
riding on a northern breeze
is at last
a message from the lord

‘The spring of birth
the autumn of life
O little bird
are meaningless without me
in every psalm
every verse
it’s I who reside

Everywhere you turn
every leaf you see
every tree you hop on
every season is me
why the cacophony of fellow birds too
is a hidden desire
to ascend to me

O little one
time is precious
it’s fleeting
every song you sing
you sing to me
there is no safe harbour in this world
only rabid darkness no true light

As a fish caught in the net
struggles to wriggle through the gaps
the endless cycle of birth
will never cease to end
hold onto my thought
as tightly as you can
it’s the last boat to freedom

Plain is my message
simple as a chirp
there’s no other being
or occupation
worthy of one’s time
than yoking their very thought
to the grandeur of the Divine’