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Feb 2018
Silvery flakes drifted downward.
Glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon.
The blackbird soared.
Singing soulfully his melodious song.
Pale blue light glinting off his feathers.
From the luminescent moon above.
Everywhere he went other birds chimed in.
Adding their glorious tunes to the blackbirds song.

Little eyes clouded with sleep
Peeked through shuttered windows
Searching for the source of the joyous song that woke them.

Parents listened through cracked entry doors, listening to the tune of sorrow they heard.

The elders listened, wizened by age, each hearing a different tune.
Some of joy.
Some of sorrow.
Some of pain.
And some of love.

It was as if the world herself stopped to hear’
The everflowing song of her children.
The song of the blackbird rung throughout the night.
Bouncing off trees.
Dancing in the snow.
Skimming the seasides.
Climbing up the steepest mountains.

Crooks and frauds heard his tune
His tune of redemption and guilt.
Murderers and thieves wept at his cries
His cries of forgiveness and mercy.

The deaf heard his song.
The blind saw through his eyes.
The dumb sang his tune.
The lame danced to his glorious melody.

The old felt young, and the young felt complete.
The blackbird changed his tune.

He sung of pain.
He sung of sorrow.
He sung of war.
He sung of death.
In the blackbirds tune joy sounded no more.

Soldiers laid down their arms.
Drowned in the feelings this new song awoke.

Angry wives, and wrathful husbands, lost their fight.

Unruly children once loud and bold.
Became silent and still.
Cooing infants began to cry.

The blackbird sang his song louder.
Praying to his mother.
That the people would listen to his words.
Hear his please for peace.
Feel his sorrow at loss.

And they heard.
Oh, how they heard.
They drowned in his pleas.
They cried in his pain.
Trembled with his sorrow filled tune.
They heard and they wept.
Wishing for this tune to stop.
Praying to the elders for his tune of joy to return.

The blackbirds song changed for the final time.
He sang of peace.
He sang of joy.
He sang of laughter.
He sang of delight
He sang to the elders for their guidance this night.

He sang of parents living happily with their children.

Of the lame dancing through towns.
Of the dumb singing his song and spreading his pleas.
Of the blind seeing through him, and showing others the way.
Of the deaf hearing his song, and singing along.
Of children giggling through the years.
Of infants, cooing,  growing from one year to the next.

The earth listened and heard.
She sang with her son.

The birds once more chimed in.
The insects buzzing in delight.
The wolves howling through the pale moonlight.

The night sang loud and true.
With the blackbirds song.
Not a soul left deaf to its beauty.
No infant left unhappy.
Not a child left sad or scared.
No adult left fearing what came next.
And no elder left fearing death.

He sang loud.
He sang true.

The blackbird sang his tune.
As the silvery flakes drifted downward.
Glittering under the pale harvest moon light.
The blackbird soared.
Singing his melodious song.
The wolves howling gaily.
The insects Buzzing peacefully.

The earth listening to her child sing.

Throughout the night.
For the rest of their days.
All who heard his song that night.
Never forgot the beauty they’d heard.
Neither did they forget the pain they had felt.
Forever remembering the peace that followed.

The blackbird soared.
High through the night.
Never ending his song rung.
The tune that made the earth stop.
To listen to its sound.
The melody that made nature sway.
Caught in a dance of pain and beauty.

The song that made.
The whole world sing.

The blackbird soared into nights dark embrace.
Never to return but in the worlds dream.
Singing his song, he soared along.

The blackbird soared.


-Scarlett Evelyn
Adelaide Knight
Written by
Adelaide Knight  15/F/United States
(15/F/United States)   
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