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.