By: Carolyn Pinet
This morning at Pilgrim
one more bird sings "at the dead of night,"
under grey skies and a sprinkling of rain.
I'm humming under my breath
while what we call "reality"
contracts, then expands:
tightly closed wings open and flutter,
poised to launch aloft.
By the end of the service
broken wings are mended,
the church shines with light.
"Three little birds" take off,
wing their way upward
to settle in the blond rafters
and sing a sweet song.
They rhapsodize heart, body and soul,
o blessed harmony
in a twittering trinity!
“Blackbird," Paul McCartney, 1968
"Three Little Birds," Bob Marley & the Wailers, 1977
And thank you to Chris and Amy who played and sang!