Jan Sand

(February 2 1926 / USA)

Old Men Feed The Birds


In all the parks in all the world
The old men sit
And feed the birds.
The old men sit
At noon and dawn
For they well know
They will be gone.
But all the birds
In all the world
Will still sing out
To raise the sun,
Will still loud sing
To set the moon.
To welcome leaves
When comes the Spring.
They bid farewell
When winters blow,
They range the sky.
To poles they go
To know the Earth
In part and whole
Across the continents they fly.
And so, with grain,
With crumbs of bread,
Men fight the force
That makes things dead.
So life may soar
Nor all things fall
Men give their bread
As gifts to all.

Submitted: Sunday, May 19, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 11, 2013

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