The warbles of a magpie in the dawn over a cool moist garden
Promise of growth, of change, of something…
It must be something good for the song is not foreboding
It must be something good.
Whatever is to come the song in my heart yearns for good.
The song ebbs and flows in cresendos and diminuendos,
It builds and falls,
It crashed and booms, laments and decries,
A gentle lullaby sooths.