Poem May 30, 1931 Issue

The Lesson of the Bird

EUNICE M. BRONSON

A little bird mistakenly
Had darted from a spreading tree
Through doors that hung asway,
And seeking then the precious light
Had flung himself in rapid flight
Against a windowpane.
The lower sash was partly raised
And yet the fledgling, hurt and dazed,
Dashed at the glass again.
And I, who could have helped him fly
To sweet release, stood helpless by
Because he feared my aid,
Until repeated effort brought
The outlet he so bravely sought
To blessed open day.

Within my heart a voice I heard:
Are you, perhaps, like that small bird
Just darting toward the light?
Deceived by some transparent glass,
Unmindful of the friends who pass
Some loving help your way?
Do you ignore the open door,
And rising frantic from the floor,
Dash at the glass again?
No need is there for fear or strife,
The loving Father giveth life,
Sustaining all the way;
And when mistakenly we drift
Into the dark, the welcome rift
Of light is there to guide!

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