A Season With The Southern Swallows Poem by JDC LeDrew

When I dwelt on the cliff's edge for a season,
I thought myself above the venue of common man.
But I leaned down to watch
The southern swallows build their nests.

Through the heat of the summer,
I watched my southern sisters feed their young.
They lived in houses built of soil,
They scooped up mortar in their mouths
And flew again and again,
To the holy water of self denial
To mix it.

With the sweat of their dark brows
And the strength of their brown wings,
They made a home of it.
When their young fell screaming into the waters,
And by the thousands drowned
In the black pool of hopelessness,
I heard them cry in the night.

A wailing such to move the soul,
Such a wailing then to move a man,
Down from the cliff tops to join in their grief.
And only then for a season,
Did this man
Join the human race.