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An Unheard Song

I sing a song for the unheard:
The dumb, the deaf, the speechless bird.
I sing a song that’s meant to gird.
I sing, I sing, a silent word.

Listen, listen, it’s sung with ease.
Its sound is quiet, like a billion bees.
It freezes hot, one hundred degrees.
Songs are sung, not many like these.

A lily, a stone, it’s all in one.
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