SONGBIRD
And where shall we go, then
when all of the options are taken, when
all of the dreams are used up in the morning
of our discontent
And where shall we go then
when we refuse to hope
(for we have to refuse
the eternal hope) to
condemn ourselves to
the hell of
no hope.
Shall we turn then,
turn the turnstill
and get on the bus
to hell,
we shall lie down then
in the morning
of our discontent
and sleep the sleep again
which brings the new dreams
for
I cannot tell you
No
I will not tell you
of the death of hope
I will not tell you
of the birth of despair
though my hands may shrivel
and the sores may ravage me, I
will try to stand when I cannot stand
I will try to sing when I have no voice
I cannot laugh when there is only sorrow in front of me
and
I cannot cry tears of joy when all is gone
I can only hold this pen and write these words for
you
I can do no more
no words can replace the song of just one
songbird in the morning of our discontent
So
I say to you
be that songbird
Songbird – David Michael Jackson 2009
This songbird poem is reprinted from David Michael Jackson at Motherbird.com