Poetry

While the year does skeleton,
hangs in this winter
there are sparrows, grey turacos
and doves catching my eyes
 
and from somewhere
a squadron of weavers suddenly do appear
that mob around
the seed that I had spread upon the lawn
like a hungry crowd out of the sky
 
and they sing exuberant
while they eat the treasure of food
and I know
that God does also just like this
stretch out His hand
with wonderful things that are in store for me.