I don't know
why there is dusk to dawn,
grass on my lawn,
why a king beats a pawn,
or why the wasp
dies when it stings.
but I know a redbird
when it sings.
I don't know
what I have in my hand,
why a soldier takes the command,
why love should be banned,
whether I'm outside
or if I belong.
but I can recall
the redbird's song.
I can't say
what's nice or mean,
to freeze in winter,
to flourish in spring.
I can't shout
or cry
or do these marvelous things,
but I notice
when the redbird spreads its wings.