Love of birds. Quotes, Hymns, Poems on Birds. (Aug. 2012)

Susan's Thursday morning note August 23, 2012
Love of birds.  Quotes, Hymns, Poems on Birds

Good morning!!  Coolness of morning.  The chance to beat the day with crispness.  Filler with a little bit of coffee added in.  Mind wonders what triggered the idea for God to create the morning air, sounds, stillness, silence…a brilliant idea! (grin)

The main fear we have in our home of morning is the opening of the curtains to greet the day.  Along with, “Good morning, world!” we have our first glance out the sliding door.  Four dark eyes staring into the glass pane.  Looking beyond we often see remnants of a desperate struggle showing that the food chain is alive and well.  The grossness of mutilation of little animals by these beautiful innocent looking cats.  Yesterday morning (dare I admit this?) a little head all alone on the ground that one particular family member said should be mounted like a sheep’s head.  See, I shouldn’t have typed that.  A few days ago one of the innocents stood on other side of the curtain waiting for our unveiling – to bring into our living room a little beautiful yellow bird hanging from her mouth with pride in her eyes.  Such a tiny frail little one.  The humans on this side of the curtain immediately panic, curse the innocent one, and realize the limp bird still lives.  After an hour of sweet love from a dear child, putting out a dish of water, helping the sad little bird first stumble, then hop, then make airborne status (as we kept the mean cat caged inside looking all sweet and harmless)…we felt such elation – the saving of the little frail friend.  Who knows the end of the story, but I loved the determination from Camden.  His perseverance and hope triumphed.  I have since been looking for hymns, quotes, verses on our little birds.  Here are some of my favorites…

I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful.  Pete Hamill

That little bird has chosen his shelter. Above it are the stars and the deep heaven of worlds. Yet he is rocking himself to sleep without caring for tomorrow's lodging, calmly clinging to his little twig, and leaving God to think for him. - Martin Luther

A mockingbird ... was heard to blend the songs of 32 different kinds of birds into a ten minute performance, a virtuoso display that served no practical purpose, falling, therefore, into the realm of pure art.  Tom Robbins

So God created the great sea creatures and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarm, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.  Genesis 1:21
"I sing because I'm happy,
I sing because I'm free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me."   
        Words: Civilla Martin, 1905. Music: Charles Gabriel

"He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart." Psalm 91:4
  (rampart defined: defensive barrier)

The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp. -John Berry

The kiss of sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth, One is nearer God's heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth.  Dorothy Frances Gurney

Those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art.  Izaak Walton (1593-1683)
Morning Has Broken by Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965) Morning has broken, like the first morning Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird Praise for the singing, praise for the morning Praise for the springing fresh from the word Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven Like the first dewfall, on the first grass Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden Sprung in completeness where his feet pass Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning Born of the one light, Eden saw play Praise with elation, praise every morning God's recreation of the new day

A bird does not sing because it has an answer.  It sings because it has a song.  Chinese Proverb

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.”   Emily Dickinson

Thank you for letting me enter your world again this Thursday morning.  Are we listening as the birds sing for us?  They know our story.  They listen to us.  They understand us.  (grin)  Time moving so quickly, yet if we stop only for a moment and listen, there they are…singing and encouraging us to continue.  To remind us to look up.  To look to the heavens.  To know that we are surrounded by the wing of our Creator.  To  know that we must only look up to the heavens to be given a peace that passes the understanding of any we may meet.  The gift of this peace.  The birds know.  They are our reminder of life…of life moving…of life moving on no matter what we’re handed…of joy continuing regardless of anything.  The gift of music.  The gift that heals.  Birds.  Beautiful gift from our God.  Let’s go enter this day.  Our gift.  Time.  Will we notice details?  Will we look to the heavens?  Will we keep the perspective of eternity – our souls created for only a short time on earth?  Eternity.  Can you imagine the sounds from the birds in heaven?  Susan

Latin for this week:
Avis - generic term for 'bird' referring to any species
Volucres - flying

Passeres – refers to any small bird, especially to a sparrow.