I am not idle

I am not idle though I do no thing
For reverie takes place when we relax
I learn from these wild blackbirds how   to sing

I   am savouring all my past doings
Wandering through wild woods on hidden tracks
I am not idle though I make no thing

Do butterflies feel sad they no wage bring
As Oxford students revel in the Backs?
I learn from gay wild blackbirds how   to sing

I hear the  bells of  heaven softly ring
As  the mother gives her baby suck
I am not poor though I  possess no thing

At  Christ’s Mass we see the food he brings
His torn body bleeding  left its track
I weep with  dear wild blackbirds  as they sing

In the world he made there is a crack
We cannot mend it nor put evil back
I am not idle though I do no thing
I learn from  contemplation how  life stings