Happy Birthday, Mary Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The birds are silent now,
all called to order by the owl.
It is a memorable time
and honour goes to those
who would bestow it.

And handed down
through generations
by feathered friends
are special sounds
for few occasions.

The tones that rang
and echoed sweetly
this day, back then
have come with you
to keep you well
and be good company.

And tiny hearts
will beat and be aware
of human souls
who do embrace
all life and limb
who love their sheer
autonomy
and live in goodness
as perpetuity.