Poetry

While the year hangs skeleton
in this winter
there are sparrows, starlings
and doves catching my eyes
 
and from somewhere
a squadron of weavers suddenly does arrive
that descends on the seed
that I have spread
like a hungry crowd out of the sky
 
that does sing jubilant
while they eat the seed
and I know
that the Lord does also
stretch out His hand
with wonderful things for me.