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� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � The Nightingale's Song

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Without a sigh of harm, the nightingale
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Removed the soiled dressing from the
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � wound
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � And cleansed the area of supine male
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Before returning to the orchard pruned.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Throughout the night, the windswept evening
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � howled -
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � The lights were flickering in fierce distress -
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � But this lone nightingale was never cowed
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � And carried forward as if to impress.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � With family problems churning deep beneath,
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Nocturnal songbird fluttered through the
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � halls
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Imparting cheer, not grief, through aching
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � teeth
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � For nightingales must answer higher calls.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Determined strongly, the nightingale kept
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Appointed rounds, detached from ego needs
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � And did not stop to contemplate when wept
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � The last, for duty called with basic needs.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � There were ones without limbs and others, eyes,
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Some without conscious and some without feel
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � And orphaned child whose spirit often dies
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � When mindful of his solitary deal.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � By saintly glow, the nightingale did light
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � The darkened passageways between the
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � rooms
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � To offer warmth to those in dire plight
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � And medication for those that fate dooms.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � When heaven was made, nightingales were born
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � To fly through time until present was found
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � To guide the way for broken souls forlorn
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Whose pain was deeper than the deepest sound.

� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Weep not for nightingale's song for it's sung
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � In revelation to the mind of men
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � But mindful should you be to the bell rung
� � � � � � � � � � � � � �� When nightingales depart from where they've
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � been.

�1999 Robert Tremblay


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