The Birds Poem by Ina Coolbrith

God bless the bird-
List to its caroling!
Sweeter was ever heard?
How every note of it
Full from the throat of it
Utters the Spring!

Were not a leaf-
Were not a hint of green
On field or forest seen,
That would be tint, perfume,
Fruitage and bud and bloom,
Harvest and sheaf.

Hearken, again!
Back comes the mellow strain,
Ah, the clear joy in it!
Never alloy in it,
No need of words-
All that it says and is,
Life, love, supremest bliss-
God bless the birds!