Little Prayerful Bird Poem by Wegolonyo Erick

There's a bird that rests upon a crypt's door,
Every day each morning to meditate
Whether weather cold or warm, through and through.
You'll go and come, you'll come and go; till late.
If you like come maybe in the dark night
And there still sits that poor lad bird alone.
Its glassy only feathers against fright,
His head is a hiding corn about blown
Raises slowly his angelic paired wings.
Though in the most timid posture ev'r seen,
Could watch him compose prayers as he sings;
Most beautiful hymns, melodious paean.
There's that bird there always praying for you
Oh, a humble little fellow, for thee!