The Song of the Birds

The song of the birds every morning,

Is the song of the worship of God,

It is the sweetest song that man ever heard,

And is sent every day for our good!

There may be wars and rumours of war,

And thousands perish each day in their blood,

Arguments rage and friends disengage,

But the birdsong is sent for our good!

In the animal kingdom, the predator kills

To eat and survive every day,

And often becomes a victim itself,

But the birdsong sings on! Come what may!

Those little creatures sing their praise,

And last but a few brief days,

But God replaces them each day that comes,

And their song never ceases to amaze!

The heavens declare the Glory of God,

The floods lift up their voice,

The rivers and streams clap their hands,

And the mountains praise God and rejoice!

Yet amid this worship of the whole of Creation.

There is another sound that we hear: –

“The whole creation groans in the pains of childbirth,

For the sons of God to be revealed,” and appear!

Creation awaits with eager longing for mankind,

For our future glory to surpass our present sufferings,

It’s not to be compared with the glory to be revealed in us,

For our coming state, our days we’re numbering!

Creation anticipates our future glory,

And longs to see it fulfilled,

Graveyards fill up with the righteous and the unrighteous,

Awaiting all death, creation will be thrilled!

One day we shall be free from the bondage of corruption,

To obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God,

The redemption of our bodies is what Creation groans for,

And the morning song of the birds can now be understood!

Peter Burt