Wood thrush
Voice rush
Ringing in the wilderness;
Your phrases fill the summer calm
With perfect meter throstle thrummed
In timely repetition.

Wood thrush
Voice rush
Ringing in my ears;
Defy interpretation with your metaphoric strains -
Spell still meaning, clearly,
Mere beauty in the wood.

Wood thrush
Voice rush
Ringing in the air;
I've oft' pursued your fleeting lines
Through mired web of brush and fallen trees
In search of some concluding note
And perhaps vision
Of the higher source of song.