The yawn of the bleak afternoon widens before me
Its dank, stifling breath
Wafting unwelcomely over my face
Pinning my leaden legs
Its spell of apathy heaving my bloated body into the abyss
Extinguishing the light in my eyes
Slackening my jaw
Cooling the molten lava of my soul
Bleeding the beauty from my day
Insidiously, but surely, turning me to lumpish stone.

My weighted lids can resist no longer
They begin their descent
Sounds become vague and distant
Warm oblivion is close to hand
The battle is almost won
But, not quite…

For across the never ending gloom
There rose a song of unadulterated joy
That no pollution of man could destroy.

My lids snapped open
To find the source of my interruption
To halt the invidious slide into corruption.

And there before me through my bespattered window
Resolute and strong upon its sturdy branch
A lone bird perched proudly in its brilliance.

And how it sang!
Scourging the ugliness from the world
Appreciating and creating the beauty unfurled.

And how it sang!
Sweet ballads of hope for the despairing
Impelling melodies for the uncaring.

And how it sang!
Through the lightness of its soul soaring the sky
Singing: live this precious gift of now!

It was no coincidence that at this moment
The moody clouds chose to break their conspiracy
To allow the sun to spotlight God’s son.