Eyes wreathed in wrinkled flesh slowly focus
as the fledging dawn stretches pink fingers over the horizon
Softly he cackles....."ohhhhhhhh, look at that"
as if it is his first dawn and he's just noticed that it's beautiful.
A few meager grains and the morning devotions begin
sing praises, sing praises all praises for the morning's birth.
After the morning songs, a more substantial feast
and celebrations begin for the the bounty of food-all food, good food.
More songs, more feasting, followed by a lengthy
and well deserved snooze as the sun reaches her full height and splendor.
Everyone notices the noon, the blazing sun, there is no need
to sing praises, rather rest, rest, rest in the golden glory.
As the sun begins her drop into the West, the singing resumes
praising the softening light and the lengthening shadows that dance across the yard.
One by one the various bird species silence their songs and move to a nightly roost
and soon it will be time for the nightly crescendo to herald the passing of the day.
Dusk comes and it is time for the bell
ringing ringing a joyful sound proclaiming the end of a day and beginning of a night.
The light catches the bell and a gnarled appendage grasps it firmly
ring ring ring praises for the sun, praises for the bell with her lilting song and flashing sunlit symphony.
Before the last of daylight is enfolded by the gentle night
a wrinkled eye softly closes, a wizened face points eastward
Sleeping now, facing the promise of a new day arising from the darkness
and if the day comes, the praise will begin anew for Oliver the Parrot.