An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.

Although it’s dark out there the blackbird sings
His territory  is the same as in the past
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.

These birds are little dinosaurs with wings
Like the spider they adapted and so last
Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.

What other pleasures will the season bring?
Alas the seasons come and too soon pass
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.

In my leafy wood, birds wisely throng.
We have no cat nor greenhouse with its glass
Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.

In my heart, for Northern moors I long;
The heather where we loved, the sheep shorn grass
As ancient ,holy sounds began the Spring.

Yet I am never mournful for the past
God lives in each small moment,life’s our Mass
Although it’s dark out there the blackbird sings
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.