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The bird also has found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may put her young: Your alters, LORD of armies, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house! They are ever praising You.

Psalm 84:3-4

Little One of spring’s rebirth,
friend of songwriter and poet,
fills still air with melodious song;
it’s mid-summer yet your nest 
is filled with opened mouths to
feed. Another late blush to fledge.

You’re silent as your daily duties
fill long minutes in nurturing young.
I thought you long departed on
heated morning, summer breeze.
My brown buddy now perched on
woody twig; stately sentinel scene.

What joy that fills this waiting
heart to know you linger long.
Churrs and rattles, a lively song,
my little wren so bold and strong.
The chatter in the nesting box
brings hope of springs to come.

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