Sing Little Birds

Pray little birds, do sing for me
Pray little birds, do sing
For thy song is a thing of unaltered joy
That us devoid of sorrow or strife
Bringing gentle caresses to
A wavering life
You sing without reason or intent
Other than to soften the heart strings that are bent
like vines on a tree
That tangle and intertwine
Unknowing that in time they will consume a life.
But through death we are born anew
as we gaze onto a sky of blue
and embrace that light of life
That consumes all fear
and illuminates all that we hold dear
And so I ask of you little birds
Sing for me again
So that I may then smile
And know that little songs
make my life worthwhile